The Supremacy
by LostinNY
Summary: Follow up to the Academy. Lotor has graduated the Academy and is sent off to complete his military training under Hazar. The brutality of the Drule Supremacy shapes his identity. M for murder, violence, rough language and some sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The young officer sighed as he put on his uniform for the last time. He stood in front of the full length mirror, carefully picking of a piece of lint that had attached itself to his cape. He felt the familiar touch come from behind and a warm breath against his neck. He looked at the delicate hands that encircled his waist and chuckled. Turning around, he kissed the woman hard, his fingers finding their way into her well crafted bun that kept her hair in order.

"You are such a bastard. I am already going to be late for maneuvers." She snorted as she smacked his chest. He looked over her shoulder at the small bedroom, a far cry from the luxurious one in his own apartment. He felt bad that he had rarely invited her over, thinking that she had never spent one night in his bed. He had always been an extremely private person and hardly let anyone into his private chambers. Lately, there had been so much tension between them. She wanted more than he could ever give. For years, he had tried to get her to move on. He had even introduced her to some of the finest officers in the fleet, hoping she would take a shine to one of them. She was, after all, a highly desirable woman. She had refused all of the other men's entreaties, much to Lotor's dismay. He, finding a ready and willing lover, had not been quick to sever the bond between them. After all, she was his oldest and dearest friend.

"The real estate broker called while you were in the shower. You will be happy to know she sold your apartment at a steep profit. Not that it really matters to you." Sharra said with a flat voice.

"You are answering my calls again. I thought we talked about that." He said in a playful tone. He had nothing to hide. He neither had the time or the inclination to take another lover on Drule. Commander Hazar had pushed the Advance Fleet to the limit that year. The previous Supreme Commander had been "retired" and Hazar had been jockeying for the opening. During the last year, Hazar had wracked up a long list of conquests in order to pad his already impressive résumé. Unfortunately, many men had paid the price for his ambition. It was out of sheer luck that his commander's grab for power coincided with the refitting of the fleet. The fleet had now been put into station over Drule for the past three months, affording Lotor plenty of time to use his accumulated leave. Lotor was actually glad that Hazar was most likely going to get the position that he so richly deserved. Hazar was fearful that his meteoric rise to fame was going to hinder his application, but instead it had helped the mercurial commander.

"Take me back with you." A small voice pleaded. Lotor had expected her to be stronger than this.

"I have a harem on Korrinoth. You deserve better than that. I know for a fact that many men have asked you to be their mate. It is time you took a husband." He gently said. "You are a very attractive woman, use it to your advantage." The tears welled up in her eyes. He had never mentioned the harem before, careful not to upset her. He asked himself why, of all days, did he have to bring it up. Their time together was growing short.

"I do not care. Make me one of your concubines." Sharra cried out.

"From day one, we agreed to what the conditions of this relationship were. This was only _recreation_." His voice became terse.

"I love you." She pitifully replied.

"I know. I am sorry if I took advantage of your feelings. I did not mean to." He gathered her up. "I was afraid I was going to lose you." He threw in the last line for good measure.

"It is my social status that prevents us from being together." Sharra's words struck hard. She was correct on one level. His father would have never have permitted a marriage with a commoner, unless there had been extenuating circumstances. Conversely, an officer would have never found her way into a harem; she was a free born Drule. It was against the Law. In truth, he did not love her in that way so the thought of them spending a lifetime together had never been considered. In his mind, he had formed the perfect image of a wife; and it was not Sharra. His wife, his future queen, would be magnificent. He wanted someone like his mother Althea; she needed to be a woman that the storytellers would weave legends about. Sharra was attractive, but only a few notches above ordinary. He was looking for a goddess.

"Yes, my father would never accept you." Lotor said with a sad smile, grateful that he did not have to make up another lie.

"Ironic, is it not? We were both born of slaves. Will I see you again?" Sharra asked hopefully.

"My father tries to keep far away form imperial politics. He asks for little, and gives little in return. The Supreme Council of the Denubian Galaxy gives him enough headaches. We rarely make it out to Drule." Lotor shrugged. In a way, this was merciful.

"Then I shall offer up my resignation also. Maybe it is time for me to go home." Lotor shook his head as he considered the woman before him. All of these years, she had been posted on Drule. She had stayed away from her family and friends in order to enjoy his few brief visits over the years. Had she known that his visits to Korrinoth were filled with a parade of princesses and queens that his father forced him to meet,in hopes of securing a lasting alliance, she might have changed her mind about the nature of their relationship. She would have seen it was futile. His father had not pressed the issue of marriage yet, content in knowing his son was sowing his wild oats. The prince knew that with his return it would take on a greater intensity. Sharra, he had been sure, had been faithful to a fault though he had offered nothing in return.

On some level, he must have encouraged their relationship. She was no fool. Over the years, he had sent her hundreds of letters and presents. The notes had not been romantic; they were mostly comprised of his musing concerning far away planets and their inhabitants. The presents, save for a few, were interesting trinkets he had picked up in alien market places. He had bought her this apartment and a personal flyer. He wanted her to enjoy herself in the expensive capitol city and had filled her bank account with credits. Even this small apartment had been a small fortune, being in the heart of the magnificent city. One might consider these to be extravagant gifts. He did not think much of it; he had few friends to splurge his wealth on. He looked around the room with some regret. In his mind, it had been such a small gesture, but a woman might read more into his acts of gratitude.

And then there was the sex. It had been no accident. He had planned on the seduction from the first moment he had seen her again. The memory of her body, undressed and flushed in the ice cave, had seared itself into his teenage memory. When their paths crossed again, he was a far more experienced lover and he took her with an abandon that overwhelmed her. He knew she was based on Drule, and when the fleet came in he had sought her. It was not totally about the sex, which was just a gratuitous benefit. He had hoped to rekindle their friendship as it had been lonely on the battle carrier he had been assigned too. The Drules, viewed their Korrinoth brethren as some sort of subspecies, and kept their distance. In a sea of red eyes and small ears, his exotic features stood out. Few, save a selected group of superiors, knew who he truly was. No one tried to curry his favor. Here, like everywhere else, he was still the outsider. Hazar, his commander, had seen promise in his new warmaster but the man, though talented, was more obsessed with his own rise to power than mentoring the young prince.

The memory of their first night, no, their first days together still burned within. Yes, he had been careful to set down the rules. It was like this with all of his far flung relationships. In the end, he knew that none of the women he took to his bed were worthy enough to bear the next Crown Prince to the Korrinoth throne. Unlike his father, who had attained his position through force, and therefore owed no one, his mate would be chosen for him. For two days, they secluded themselves in a hotel room; only emerging to answer the knock of room service. Their separation was forced by a call to duty. Looking back, he should have kept her there longer. It would have been worth the AWOL on both of their records. He could honestly say she was the best lover he had ever, and as the years had gone by there were far to many to compare her to. Knowing how she felt about him, he should have stopped it then, savoring the delicious experience. Unfortunately, he was selfish by nature.

"You must look forward to seeing your father. He will be glad to see his son is no longer a boy, but a true warmaster with conquests and muscles." Sharra looked at him as if she was appraising a piece of meat. She had never hid her lustful nature which he found to be her most attractive trait. In many ways, she was as carnal as he was. She slipped her hands down his bare arms and touched his chest lightly with her fingers. He had been happy she noticed that his long awaited musculature had finally come in. He had waited longer than most and feared he would look like a scrawny human all of his days. "He has not seen you like this. You are very much improved after your long absence." It was true. He had not been home in two years.

Lotor could take no more. He was not sure if it had been the stroking of his flesh or his ego that caused him to drag her back into her bed. Both of them, knowing perhaps this would be their last time together, ripped off each other's clothes with relish. They made love all morning, ignoring the repetitive rings of their respective mobile communicators. Finally, Lotor reached for the insistent device and sighed when he saw his superior's name scrawl across the scene. He braced himself for the harsh retorts that would follow as he hit the speaker.

"Captain Lotor, where are you? You still have to brief Zandu before you leave." He heard Hazar's gravelly voice, perpetually clothed in annoyance, barking at him. "I swear I am surrounded by incompetents." The last words brought a smile to Lotor's lips. Hazar, at times, reminded him of his father. Imperial and overbearing, they were cut from the same cloth. Lotor thought that Zeppo should just marry one of his daughters off to this man; he was certain that the warlord would eventually take the Emperor's throne.

"Forgive me. I was having a religious experience. My meditations consumed me and I became lost in the worship of a goddess." He said with a devilish smirk, winking at Sharra who was trying desperately not to break out in laughter. He put a finger to his mouth, silently beseeching her to be quiet.

"Pagan bullshit from a Korronite. What else can I expect from such a primitive? I have to say I am glad to be packing off your sorry ass carcass. You have been nothing but trouble since you set foot on my bridge. I want you here in an hour." The voice on the other end was fuming.

"Yes, Your Excellency." Lotor snapped the device shut.

"There are advantages from coming from the so called backwater worlds. Everyone always accepts the religion excuse." Lotor said as he scrambled for his clothes. Deep down, he was angry at his commander. Some of the fame he claimed as his own belonged to Lotor. Hazar, though principled in his own way, was not one to share glory. Still, he had learned quite a bit under the brilliant, young commander.

"It only works because you spend half the morning praying to your dead kings and dark gods. You truly are a god fearing pagan. You just will not admit it." He was just glad she did not mock him for his beliefs as many of the Modern Drule did. She ruffled his hair. He closed his eyes, again wondering if it was the last time he would feel those lovely fingers brushing through his tangled locks. He wished, for a moment, that things could have been different. Fate had not served Sharra well. Over the years, he had been sure, that if he had found her in season that they would have created a child. Perhaps then, he would have taken her to wife. His father would have beaten him; but in the end, he may have relented. Of late, he had been telling his son that he wanted him to produce the next generation of Korronite rulers. Dharlock's boys, though highly intelligent, were incapable of keeping Doom's Empire secure. It was the Doomites that kept Dharlock in power, something his father never let the king of the Tenth Kingdom forget.

"And what is mine? I do not have your position to fall back on. And sadly, I am from a more civilized and sophisticated world. I cannot use such a delay as an excuse. Can you see me claiming that I have found salvation at the altar of the gods?" Her laughter filled the room.

"You do not need to find salvation. You have committed no grievous sins." He said with a look that bordered on guilt. "I, on the other hand, carry a full load." He reached for her and nuzzled her neck. "You tell your commander that an Imperial warmaster begged your bed this morning. If he has a problem with that, well, tell him your warmaster will come by to discuss the issue with him." He threw her down and gave her one more soulful kiss. "Seriously," he said, "you say it just like that." Sharra pulled him close. She always felt so protected when he was near. Deep down, she knew it was all an illusion.

"My father told me that it was best to keep away from warmasters. You are not a good lot." Sharra softly said her voice barely audible as if she was reminding herself about the foolish mistake she had made. She was desperately trying not to cry.

"Sharra, your father is a wise man." Lotor said as he climbed out of the bed. Wordlesly he dressed. She did not even hear the front door close as he left her weeping in the bed. He felt bad as he left. He also felt relief. Deep down, he knew it was over.


	2. Chapter 2

The Imperial Adjunct

The Imperial Adjunct was quietly seated in one of the boxes reserved for visiting dignitaries. His face was full of contempt as he watched the ceremonies graduation progress, bored with its seemingly slow pace. He zoned out. It had been his fifth this month. Each year, he had fewer recruits willing to volunteer for the elite Advance Guard that was comprised of the Supremacy's fiercest warriors. The youth of the Ten Kingdoms, once the most courageous fighters had become weak and decadent as the wealth and trade had prospered in the Denubian Galaxy. The Ten Kingdoms were no longer willing to just sacrifice their children to the imperial war machine. Instead, the Kingdoms were willing to buy or bribe their citizens' way out of their service.

Twenty years ago, ten percent of the Imperial force was comprised of officers and men from those realms, the product of colonization efforts started thousands of years before. Now, the Imperial Adjunct calculated that their contribution had dropped down to at only five. The worst were the Doomites. The biggest drop off was in the ranks of those much sought after soldiers, prized for their determination, cunning and strength. The Korrinite king had his own ambitions and had resorted to paying off the Emperor with lazon in order to keep his forces close to home. The Imperial Adjunct, more than anyone else, was surprised to see the only heir to the Korrinoth throne on his list. He could not remember the last time he had such an important personage to retrieve, and this particular volunteer certainly made no particular sense.

The last decades had been hard of the Drulian Empire; it was struggling to maintain its hegemony. The growing independence of the Ten Kingdoms was a perfect example of the tenuous hold that the Imperials sensed was slipping. More and more, they were acting like an independent entity. Their High Council was overseen by the pragmatic leadership of King Bhorn, a man known for his persuasive manner. Bhorn, however, was not the real threat. Thirty some odd years ago, the Demon King had seemingly appeared out of nowhere – bringing more and more planets into his own sphere of influence. At first, his arrival was heralded. He had been a prudent ruler; using Korrinoth's vast resources as a tool to forge bonds with almost every non-Drule planet bordering the Empire. He used diplomacy instead of fists and had done much to increase trade and colonization. His plans had proved fruitful, filling his coffers. In turn, his tribute to the Empire also increased. He gave but did not take; a relationship that pleased the Imperial Throne to no end. But lately, things had changed

The Demon King was not content in the small role he was playing on the galactic stage. There had been whispers in the Supremacy that the total domination of the Denubian Galaxy was his real goal, though few thought that the crude backwater world of Korrinoth could actually accomplish their ruler's desires. They had misjudged the rough edged, brilliant warrior-king as he took down the worlds he had befriended, one by one. Arus had only been the beginning. Once, it had been the most technologically advanced world in the Denubian Galaxy. Now, it lay in ruins. Its people were huddled in underground cities or in caves. Most of the other worlds quickly came into line, fearing the devastation that the Demon King would bring with his seemingly endless army of men and androids, and more terrifying, the robeasts created by the Wyvern witch called Haggar. No, it was not the aging Bhorn who was a threat, but the Demon King called Zarkon.

The Imperial Adjunct wondered if it was such a good idea for the Emperor to take the young charge under their wing and teach them their strategies. He could certainly see a rebellion in the future; the boy using all he had learned against them. It would have been wiser to take him as a court hostage, a probably useless gesture. Korronites were not known to come to blows or compromise for their own people. Even after the battlefield had quieted, they left their own to die with the enemy. They truly lived by the motto of survival of the fittest_. _A captured man, not having the wits or the resources to affect his own escape, deserved his fate. The Korronites had many worthwhile traits, but compassion and pity was not to be listed among them.

The Imperial Adjunct had arrived three days ago, eager to collect the files of his perspective new officers. He had been handed fifteen slim ones, and one that was contained in a large portfolio. He watched the Commandant hand it to him after scratching out the name of Carris out and penciling in the name of Lotor, House of Daibaza'al. He looked at the weight of the file with some amazement.

"Are you always so thorough when an Imperial Crown Prince comes to the Academy?' The Adjunct asked with interest as he picked up the heavy folder.

"No. The file speaks for itself. I think you will find it illuminating." The Commandant seemed nervous as he handed it over to the man. The Adjunct felt that the Commandant wanted to say something more.

"Hazar is looking forward to having him on the bridge. It is rare to get such a young officer trained in the art of warmastering. Does he show potential?" The Adjunct asked expectantly.

"Potential, yes. But I wish to note that he is also adept at engineering and piloting. Perhaps it would be best for all of us to keep him off the bridge and out of planning committees. He might best serve the Empire in the engine rooms." The Commandant slowly said, careful to choose words that would not mention his true fears concerning the youth. Charak, his Master of Arms, had warned that the boy could call the bloodlust at will, a crime punishable by death.

"Engineering officers are a dime a dozen, everyone puts that down as their first choice. Every student that graduates an Academy can sit around and read dials. I do not think such an assignment would please either the Emperor, Hazar or the Demon King" The Adjunct looked at the Commandant, rankled by the suggestion.

"Read the file and then tell me I am wrong." The Commandant snapped back.

"I am sure it will prove fascinating." The Adjunct replied back as he scooped up the files.

"You are invited to sit with me in the Royal Box tomorrow." The Commandant offered.

"No thank you. I get my fair share of royals as is. I find that polite conversation can only get you into trouble with them" The man, the Commandant noted, had a perpetual scowl on his face. He seemed one of those efficient types that were devoid of any personality, another cog in the Imperial war machine.

This, of course, was not exactly true. The Adjunct's personality was often subsumed by the demands of his job. It was often difficult to place the hodge podge of green, hormonal teenagers in positions of use. He actually was a good natured fellow, a psychiatrist by training. He understood the mentality of the youth he placed. He was just tired of coming back to the battle cruisers, year after year, only to discover that the previous year's placements were either dead or exhausted from the growing demands of the Empire. The majority of them would be returning to their homelands after their five years of service were up, bringing back whatever rank they had attained. The service did set them apart from their peers. This alone, unfortunately, was not a very powerful inducement to join for any but the most ambitious. Some would stay on, promotion being more rapid in the imperial service. Warfare was an excellent catalyst to jump starting a career. One was lucky to make captain by forty if one's sole career path was serving a planetary force. Hazar, the young commander he was about to deliver the recruits to, was only thirty when he was put in charge of the Advance Guard.

The Adjunct made his way back to his hotel and threw the files on the small desk in the room. He was exhausted. The last month had been one jump after another; quickly going from one Academy to another in hopes of collecting recruits. Only last week had he been on that desolate world of Korrinoth. He had picked up his "tribute" from the Command School of Firos, their finest institution. Though their training was far cruder than that received on Neraku, they had been a much fiercer lot. Next month, he needed to return to pick of the remainder of them. Zarkon, as usual, was being stingy with his cadets and he found many of the more promising ones mysteriously on training manuevers when he had arrived.

The Adjunct did not like going to Korrinoth. He felt the hot stares of its peoples as he walked down their streets. Their feline eyes seemed to be everywhere, and no matter what, a stranger felt like prey walking down their dark streets. He remembered the shuttle pilot pointing out the Demon King's fortress as they flew over the outskirts of Sorrinoth, the capitol city, The magnificent structure reminded him of the ruins he had seen on Hestos, so long ago in his youth. Its effect on him was the same, sending shivers up his spine. He wondered if the architect knew that its design was based on the temples erected to the gods of the Wyverns. He only briefly glanced at the structure. The pilot stating they could come no closer without risk of being shot down.

He rung up the concierge and asked for a masseuse to be sent to his room. He had not thought of anything more than a massage until the man asked him he whether he preferred a man or a woman.

"A woman." The man said with a smile. He leaned back in his bed, waiting for her arrival. There were times he forgot that he was in the realms of the Ten Kingdoms were pleasure was so easily obtainable.

He watched with some interest as two men set up the table and left. A pretty young girl, probably a teenager herself entered the room. She looked sadly at the older man who had already begun to undress. He lay down on the table, not saying a word. He sighed, her small hands were not powerful and her massage was ineffective. He quickly summed up what he thought the concierge's question had only hinted at.

"Are you a free Drule? " He asked. He was a careful man and he did not want to make a mistake.

"No, sir." He turned around and looked at the girl's face. Her skin was unlined, unlike his wife of twenty years. The temptation to touch her was great.

"You look like a free born Drule. How have you come to this place?" She looked down at him, her face burning with shame.

"My friends and I did something stupid. We stole from a store and were caught. It was only some cosmetics." Tears were welling in her eyes. The Adjunct assumed that few asked how she had come to serve them.

"For something so little." The man gave an incredulous look.

"The store belonged to a noblewoman." The girl answered him, eyes filled with sorrow.

"It was this or death in the Arena." She claimed her friends chose the later. The tears were now flowing freely. He gathered the towel around him, hoping to hide his arousal at their sight. "I was sold at the slave auctions last month."

"I am certain that you brought a high price," He said as he moved to wipe away her tears. She pulled away at those words. His kind eyes were no longer there. His lips were now slightly parted and the tip of his tongue now slowly passed over his lips. His hand opened her flimsy robe. She was as firm and tender as he imagined. Grabbing her wrist he dragged her to the bed and took her forcefully. She screamed, and the other two men came back into the room to make sure nothing more than a simple ravishment was occurring. The man was right. She had been an expensive purchase and warranted some protection. The man looked over his shoulders as the other men watched, not really caring as he plunged into the young thing below him. The girl, still new, had still not learned to accept her fate. They would beat her afterwards. She needed to learn how to make the hotel guests happy.

After he finished, one of the men took the girl away while the other one packed up the table. The girl was still crying when she left and the Adjunct was starting to feel pangs of guilt.

"Life is harsh in the Ten Kingdoms. You condemn a girl to slavery for a minor theft. Youth do foolish things, some of them should be forgiven." The Adjunct went to put on a robe.

"You are one to talk. You gave her a rough ride. We were debating whether to pull you off of her." The man said, noting the slight derision in the modern Drule's voice. He was going to remain silent. The man was obviously an Imperial guest and his manager would not take kindly to a complaint. Still, he hated what the man thought of his people. They were not so uncivilized as to take a young girl like that. The Imperial Drules treated them like dirt.

"You believed the lies of a bitch. She tells the shoplifting story to every fatherly type. Some of the kinder ones take pity on her and leave it at a massage." The man paused. He told the Adjunct that she belonged to a gang of thieves. She was with them when the killed a man for his purse. She was no innocent. She deserved prison, but why make the taxpayer pay for her crime. "At least, her sale fills the state coffers which keep my taxes low." The man gruffly said as he packed up the table. The Adjunct sighed. He could not blame the girl for trying. The man was right, he had been out of control. He was surprised at how rough he had been with her. She was young and did not understand Drule men, especially the ones from his world. Tears, if anything, aroused many of them. Her exotic looks had also added to the mix. Her pinnacled ears and those dark irises, surrounded by milky white only made her seem so much more mysterious. And her body, so firm to his touch, had practically begged him to violate her. He was going to be there for a couple of more days. Perhaps, he would call her back. She definitely needed some discipline. She had lied to an Imperial officer. Her behavior should not go uncorrected. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He had been in the Ten Kingdoms too long. He was starting to act like a savage.

The man went over to the desk and looked at the pile of files he needed to sort through. Every year, he asked for them to be digitalized, but the Commandant kept to this antiquated system. He called up the list that Hazar's aide Mongo had sent him of available positions. As usual, there were far more than he could easily fill. He could already hear Hazar berating him. He spent the next several hours going through the thin files. He actually enjoyed reading their files, Neraku, save for the nobleman's children, trained the Ten Kingdoms best and brightest. There was not an incompetent in the pile. Hazar, he thought happily to himself, would be more than pleased with this year's class.

There was only one file left to go through. He looked at the file and shook his head. He had only seen a few others that were even comparable and those cadets, if he remembered, did not have good outcomes. He slid the papers out, one report after another describing the young man's insubordinate behavior. He had been hospitalized no less than five times. Other less serious trips to the medical center were almost too numerous to note. All of them, save a broken leg that happened after an accident on an obstacle course, had all resulted from measures to discipline him. The boy, the Adjunct surmised, was trouble.

The psychologist's reports caused him even greater consternation. He accused the boy of suffering from many personality defects. He was arrogant to a fault. He was temperamental, and when angered, could fly into sudden fits of rage. He had hospitalized no less than twenty students during his Academy years, but to be fair, they had usually tormented him first. They Adjunct noted that the attacks decreased as the boy aged. Either he had gotten himself more under control or the other students had learned to keep out of his way, something that the reports failed to answer. Those were his obvious weaknesses.

His strengths, however, were many. It was obvious that he was a gifted student. His grades were exceptional in most areas. The skill that would interest Hazar the most, his ability to strategize and to efficiently deploy resources for their maximum effectiveness, were highly developed. He was also fearless, but not in a total reckless way. This was important, many officers failed to deliver the final blow in the end, fearing for the safety of their men. Countless times, an enemy had escaped because an officer had faltered by failing to pursue a retreating army. The boy did not make that mistake. He totally decimated the enemy.

Lotor was also an excellent judge of when his forces were overwhelmed. The cadet, in his battle simulations, had always retreated at the proper times. The Adjunct noted that the boy had never died in the required simulations, never once. The man tried to recall when he had ever seen such a pristine survival record. The boy, he noted, had an excellent sense of self-preservation. Lotor's instructors noted that he had been disappointed in his defeats, but never demoralized. He also knew how to turn a battle around, usually through the art of deception.

The youth's written papers reflected the political philosophies that were employed by the Demon King. Most notably, how total warfare was necessary to subdue a recalcitrant population. This was at odds with the Supremacy in general. The Supremacy tried to preserve as much of the population and the infrastructure of any planet it was conquering. Zarkon, it seemed, cared for only the natural resources he and its animal population. The Korronites, the man well knew, were the undisputed experts in two things; strip mining and hunting.

The psychiatrist did not need a birth certificate to tell him that the boy was a half-breed, his picture told the tale. He noted that the boy's mother was a human and curled back his lip a little. This fact alone should have made him a dullard, he thought. It was true that the boy was handsome, it was well known that the unions with humans tended to produce startling beautiful offspring. The boy looked more like a pleasure slave than a warrior. On his last trip to Korrinoth, the Adjunct had spotted many of these children on streets, human female slaves having become the latest status symbol of wealthy. Their Demon King, he mused, was a trendsetter. Still, the thought of a Drule mating with a human was almost too much to bear. True Drules, he noted, would have never done anything so disgusting as to mate with such an inferior species; again showing the low levels that the people of the Ten Kingdoms had sunk to. Their depravity, at times, shocked him. The Adjunct poured over the youths medical records, sure he had missed something. There was something about those golden eyes, they would have even stood out on Korrinoth, such was their intensity. It was the dental records the proved the last clue. All Drules had pointed canines. They were necessary for two things, eating and mating. The well developed upper canines were no shock, but the lower ones pointed to a close connection to Wyvern blood. It explained the rage and those haunting eyes. It was bad enough he bore the Mark of Jain, but that gene mutation was well distributed among the upper classes of his people too and would cause little alarm. The teeth, however, pointed to a much closer association with that mostly extinct and volatile race that would make many of the Modern Drule keep away from him. He was being assigned to the _Kiros,_ Hazar's command ship. He would have put the boy somewhere else, but in this he had no choice. THat ship was mostly manned by Modern Drule; the boy was going to feel lonely amongst ten thousand souls. The Emperor was clear the he be under Hazar's command. The boy, it seems, had pleased him with a remarkable display of swordsmanship. He shook his head, royals were so easily impressed with a piece of steel. He wondered out loud how many degrees of separation were between him and a full blooded Wyvern, he hjoped for at least six, maybe eight to be safe.

He poured over the boy's records again. He found one unusual omission. The boy had spent his entire time in the warmastering program, even had time to complete the piloting one, but had not been ranked in swords. Strange, since the Emperor himself had gushed on about it. A lesser adjunct would have missed this small fact, swords were rarely employed by the Imperial fleet and were generally not taken into consideration when chosing a slot. The outdated customs that regulated their use mostly confined themselves to the more far flung parts of the Empire and the ritualized law courts that were found among certain castes to solve their own internal differences. It was rare to see them used and considered quite a spectacle whenever they appeared in the Imperial Arena on Drule. In fact, the practice was so antiquated that the Emperor only employed one champion to represent him if a sword challenge was made. Yet, the backward Korrinoth's were masters at the art and the boy should have been ranked. In fact, he should have dominated the program but the page was blank save some graduation requirement. He noted that he should make a follow up on this when he had the time, but he was on a tight schedule. He still had two more Academies to visit on Neraku before the transport with the recruits departed.

The words of the commandant ringed in his ears. He put the boy down as an engineering officer, it seemed the safest thing to do. If Hazar wanted to move the boy up to command, let the blame fall on his shoulders if the boy screwed up. Usually, the gruff commander let him be. He had bigger concerns that a few new recruits, most of them were fairly useless for the first year or two. The engineering officers were the lucky ones, deep within the space carrier's bowels no harm usually came to them. The pilots and infantry officers had a far higher casualty rate. He was doing the prince a favor.

The Adjunct finished up his recommendations. He turned to the video com station and through a series of relays he was patched into his home. It was a terribly expensive thing to do but he longed to talk to his wife and see his two children. There was not much to say, but the family was thrilled to see each other's faces again. He told them how much he loved them and that he would be home soon. His yearly leave was coming up and he could barely wait to see them again.

He shut off the monitor after throwing out his last words of affection. He then called the concierge. He was in the mood for another massage.


	3. Chapter 3

The Departure

Lotor stood up from his desk, his eyes surveying the barracks for the last time. It only seemed like yesterday when he entered this concrete hell. He did not know if the accommodations on a space carrier were going to be any more comfortable, but there, he had heard you did not have to keep a regulation perfect rack. The officers were expected to be well rested. A bed, any bed, was preferable to the hard, freezing floor. Nothing much had changed since he had moved in. He still had the same locker, and the same bunk. Even Yorak was still there. During the previous year, he had failed his warmaster finals. He had been rolled back; something Lotor thought he had done on purpose. It was well known that he would be eventually joining Skath when his Imperial service was done. After his failure, none of the other militaries or royal houses, save Skath's, would even consider him as an officer. It was the Imperials, or life as a lowman. Yorak chose the later; it was not as safe but it paid better. He ended up with a communication degree which Lotor took some satisfaction in. He had felt the brute strength of the youth, one that almost rivaled his father's, too many times. His posting was a lonely asteroid in the Verastrian Belt; as close to the Western Territories as one could get without crossing over the deadly border. It had taken the entire barracks and three navigation cadets to pinpoint its location. Lotor asked Borak to have one of his father's intelligence officers find out about it. Yorak was going to be spending the next to years in the company of two androids, not an air breather in sight. Lotor did not know pity; the word did not even exist in his native Korrinoth tongue. He just felt sad. Yorak had talented fists and his swordplay had improved. He would have been a mediocre warlord, but it was in his true nature and it should not have been denied. In a lesser Academy he would have passed. Lotor gave the androids a week before they were busted up, worthy of only a scrap metal heap. Lotor thought that Yorak would, one day, make an excellent bodyguard for Skath, if he did not go insane from the solitude first.

Lotor had still not gotten his posting. He was not worried. The Emperor told him that he would be serving under Lt. Commander Hazar. Lotor was excited at the prospect. He had heard nothing but great things about the young general. He threw his underthings and his socks in his bag. He only packed one extra uniform; the rest he sent home. No doubt, one of his father's chroniclers was already lusting over it for the royal archives. He sent home the certificates too. He doubted the public would believe them after what the press had done to his reputation; but they were a part of the historical record and they did, in theory, declare him a warmaster by training. He picked up the paper, wondering if it really meant anything. His great-grandfather and his father had both born the title and rank and they had never attended an Academy in their lives. And as for his reported grandfather, he had almost taken over the known galaxy and he had never even lifted up a sword.

The last thing he packed was an envelope full of photos. All, save one had been digitalized, so he sent them home in the box with a note to place them in the top drawer of his desk in his room. He leafed through the hard copies one more time, smiling as he saw the faces of his few friends. He looked at one that another student had taken a few months ago. He was standing there with Katte and Sharra, after they had a dry run in putting on their survival gear. They were getting ready for their trip up North, as Sharra liked to describe it. Mogor was right. The weeks had lessened the pain; and the tug that Katte had on his heart had been weakened by the realization that he was not ready for either a wife or child. This, from the start, had been Katte's and Skath's mess to clean up. Then and there, he swore to never again would he act such a fool for a woman who did not love him back. Unlike Katte, he had his whole future ahead of him, ready to be conquered.

Lotor pulled out one photo from the envelope, the one that had not been scanned. He had a rational fear that his father would find it, be it on a computer or on his person, and destroy it. Anything else he had saved from Arus had either been destroyed or taken away by his father's staff. It was Haggar that had sent him the picture. Why she had saved it for him he never knew, and for some reason, dared not to ask. He, himself, wondered why he still kept it; so many years had passed since Alura's death.

In the day, she was no more than a distant memory. At night, she would come to visit. In his dreams, she had not died but her existence was not much better. He saw her huddled in a cave, crying in the dark. Coran, who had been a coward the night of her death, was with her. It was his corpse that he should have seen lying before his father, not hers. The wounds of that night still had not healed. He tried to accept what his father had done. They had only spoken of Arus once since the attack. It had somehow become a taboo topic. It did not matter that Zarkon felt nothing for that world; and though he too, in time, would train himself to think of it as just another piece of planetary real estate, he was still not there yet. He wondered if he would ever get there.

He should have put the picture away. It served no purpose, but the pull was too much. He closed his eyes, trying to recall that particular day. They had taken it in summer time, of that he was sure. His skin was plum colored; even then he could turn a decent hue of purple. Allura's hair, bleached by those long sunlit days, had turned almost as white as his. She was trying to get him to eat something she called an ice cream cone. He had not drank any milk since he was eight years old, having lost his taste for it. If he had known what trouble that cone was going to cause, he would stopped right there. Instead, enjoying its coolness he finished it and hers too. He paid heavily for it that night. His stomach cramped and he spent the night locked in his bathroom. The Queen, always nervous about his state of being, called in the Castle's doctor and woke poor Nerok up in the middle of the night. He still remembered the stream of Drule curses that came from that man's mouth. After a few moments of consultation, both doctors pronounced him lactose intolerant. After that, he was careful to keep to an all meat diet on Arus keeping his sweets for the girl. He kidded Allura that the royal princess of Arus was a skilled assassin trying to eliminate the Crown Prince of Doom. It became a running joke all summer. Gastrointestinal pain aside, he would happily relive that day in a heartbeat. He missed having fun; something Allura always knew how to do. He carefully placed the photo in his bag, sealed in both a thick envelope and a plastic pouch. It had come with him this far, why not let Allura continue his journey with him. She always claimed she wanted to see the other side of the Universe. Perhaps, when she visited him in his slumber, he could interrupt the script and tell her about what he saw that day. The thought, one of his stranger ones, had made him smile.

Lotor had been ordered to report to the main transportation hub at 10:00 that evening. He was supposed to meet his transport at Landing Dock 3. He called a car which he happily got into; he was not sorry to leave Neraku. It had been pleasant enough. The beaches were nice; but it had been a boring place. His last images of the Academy were of his fellow cadets in celebration. They were walking around the campus and embracing their parents. In the middle of the garden, several cadets were still in their dress uniforms; many of them exchanging marriage vows. Borak had been right; the last month of school had been filled with engagements. All this cheer had dome nothing to improve his mood; it only hastened his need to depart. He felt that taste of bitterness arise in his throat. His father had told him that he could not come; he was entertaining another group of endless dignitaries. He thought, at least, Borak would show up. He was good for those things. He would have even been glad to see Haggar, as long as she disguised herself. His father had not even bothered to send a gift. A congratulatory note would have even been appreciated, so desperate was he for some recognition of his accomplishments.

Instead, he was going to spend the day alone. For the next five hours, Lotor sat with his duffle bag at his side. He looked like any other soldier waiting for his transport and no one gave him much notice. He spent the rest of the day just watching people, inventing their lives for them. One woman dressed elegantly, but with too much make up was someone's mistress jetting off to meet her lover. Another richly dressed man was barking orders to his entourage. He turned and looked at Lotor and smiled, mistaking him for a fellow Westerner until he looked into his yellow eyes and turned away. Lotor was sure that the man was a guildmaster. It was not the first time it had happened. He looked more like them than his own people.

One by one, the other graduates trickled in. Lotor had to again endure the heartwarming scenes that he had tried to escape from that afternoon. He kicked himself. He should have gone to see a movie, waiting to board the transport at the last minute. Or better yet, he could have gone in style and met up with Hazar's forces in a private chartered space craft. Several of the cadets Lotor knew; they had been his classmates at the Academy. They were excitedly chatting with their parents or fellow classmates. Lotor looked at the group and realized that he had not befriended any of them. Sharra was the only friend he had made during all those years, and he had not met her to the very last year. He would try to be more social. He was tired of always putting up his defenses and being alone. This time, he hoped, it would be different.

Other recruits had started to arrive. It was a mixed bag. There were some lowmen in the mix. Lotor felt bad for them. His father had started his career as a lowman; his grandfather had basically given him away after his beloved daughter's death. His father, from what he gleamed, had a worse upbringing than he had. It was hard work. They were basically just product for the imperial meat grinder. Most, if not all of them, would be coming home in body bags or be burned up in space with lasers; the military's version of a burial on a funerary pyre. Another twenty or so officer recruits seemed to appear out of nowhere. They belonged to smaller groups of recruits, gathered up from Neraku's other lesser Academies. They looked no happier than Lotor. Most of them were assigned to be general line officers; which meant that they could be placed anywhere the Imperials felt there was a need. Usually, these were not good place. Yorak was sitting among them. Lotor was amazed how each of the groups had already divided themselves up; each keeping to his own. Lotor did not have a place in any of them. Very few officers, even under the best of circumstances, wanted to be with a warmaster. Htey, it seemed, were to be avoided at all costs.

Lotor, unlike everyone else from Neraku, had not still received his posting. Neraku cadets were always the first placed. Yorak, even after being rolled back, knew his next destination. Lotor tried to calm himself. He naturally assumed that he would be assigned a posting in the space carrier's command post. He had hoped he would become one of Lt. Commander Hazar's aides, but that failing, he would be thrilled to be any officer's assistant on an strategic planning committee. Yurak had let him sit on his staff meetings last summer. Lotor had enjoyed the experience immensely; and they had only been minor attacks. The planets were barely worth conquering.

The recruits, both the officers and the lowmen, were met by the Imperial Adjunct. Lotor looked at the man before them and realized that though he was not a warrior, he was incredibly powerful. He truthfully had the power over life and death at least that was, concerning an officer's career path. The Adjunct called each recruits name. As he checked them off his pad, an ensign handed them their final orders. Lotor thought the man had given him an odd look when the ensign handed him his, but he was tired and could have been imagining things. It was already late and they did not board until well after midnight. He had been a long day.

Like the others, Lotor took his seat before the packets were opened. There were few surprises. He heard Yorak scream with joy. Skath, in the end, had pulled some strings. Lotor rolled his eyes. He truly believed that there was no justice in the Universe. He looked down at his envelope. It was crisp and white. On the front, imprinted in gold, was the seal of the Imperial Forces. He turned over the back of the envelope. He was moving slower than the other cadets; he wanted to save this memory perfectly. It was the first time he would see his name on official orders. In his mind, he could already imagine his title of warmaster carefully typed into the box that said specialty. He could see his position listed as command officer. Goosebumps were running up and down his arms as he gingerly traced the wax on the seal. He had not trimmed his claws that week and smiled at his avoidance of that regulation. It was something he was not particularly good at and he always seemed to catch the quick of the nerve. They were long enough to gently lift the seal off, preserving its integrity. He had no intention of keeping it, but he liked the feeling of slowly opening the envelope. Anticipation was one of his favorite emotions. He got to savor so few things. Finally, the paperwork sprung free and he slid the pristine white pages out.

Lotor looked at his assignment and cursed so loud that the whole cabin turned around to see what all the fuss was about. His voice was starting to turn into a deep baritone; and its loudness had even surprised him. In a fit of rage, he threw the papers unto the floor. He still could not register what he had seen. He was an engineering officer. Even Yorak had somehow pulled an infantry officer spot, and he was stuck in the proverbial basement. Instead of action, he would be sitting in a room in front of a computer; reading dials and calculating fuel mix equations. He did not understand what he had done to deserve this. He wondered what he had done to piss off his father now. The old man was having a good laugh about this one.

Lotor quickly ran through the decks of the transport until he found out where the Adjunct's aide was berthed. The ensign was fast asleep; his duties for the day were complete. Lotor dragged him out of bed, and in a move that he had watched his father do in order to intimidate his warmasters and him, he lifted the man up by his throat and pinned him to the wall. He firmly and calmly said that he wanted to see the Imperial Adjunct. Lotor gave the ensign credit. At first, he denied Lotor's request. Lotor was trying to remain calm. There really was no reason to resort to physical violence, at least not yet. He lowered the officer, who was probably no more than a year or two older than he was. He let the man catch his breath. He knew that what he did could hurt quite a bit. He still kept one hand firmly against the officer's shoulder, effectively pinning him to wall. Lotor calmed himself and thought through the problem. Its solution had been simpler than he had expected.

Being First, at a top rate Academy had its perks. One of them was having enough points to have the rank of lieutenant. He pointed this fact out to the shaking young man, who was glaring at him. Lotor was not one to lose a staring contest. The young man looked away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Lotor's hand move to his sword hilt. The officer finally agreed to talk to the Adjunct. Lotor followed him, patiently waiting outside the Adjunct's quarters annoyed that this was taking this long. The ensign came out the door; his nervousness was greatly reduced as he sneered at Lotor.

"The Imperial Adjunct will see you. He is not impressed with your behavior. Your judgment is lacking, Korronite." Lotor was a little worried about the officer's smugness. Lotor was certain that another warmaster was aboard the transport and he would be disciplined for his insolence. If this was the case, then so be it. He was still going to see the Adjunct.

"As is his, _Imperial_." Lotor snapped back; his defiance plastered across his face. He was ushered into a private cabin. The Adjunct was sitting in a gold embroidered, red silk robe. He looked more like a retiring king than an officer of the realm. The cabin was luxurious, even by the standards of his father's Castle. Even Lotor thought, of Bhorn's as he looked around the room. He knew that the Imperials had treated their senior officers well, just not this well. Lotor was impressed with the taste of the cabin's sole resident. The Adjunct took notice of the new recruit's interest in his personnel quarters. He was actually glad that Lotor had forced the visit. It would let him view the mysterious cadet in an agitated state.

"It is a small reward for my service. I spend nine months a year on this transport. It is a gilded cage." The man said with a thin smile. "You, an Imperial crown prince, must be used to such trappings."

"Excellency, unlike you, I rarely had the chance to enjoy such extravagance. I shall tell my father that all the tribute he pays is put to good use." Lotor said. His words were followed by s similarly tight smile. The man was impressed that the boy was mirroring him, being very careful in what he said or did. He had expected a madman, from what the ensign described, but instead was confronted by a very angry, but very in control young man. He was a clever thing.

"The deprived life of a Doomite child, a well known phenomenon. I wrote a paper on it once. Your people think that denying yourselves the simple pleasures of life makes you strong. You rarely stop to smell the flowers, oh I forgot, there are no flowers on that stink hole." The man poured himself a drink, and then, offered Lotor one. Lotor smiled to himself, the man was trying to provoke him.

"Not denial, discipline. Do not take yourself to task for getting it wrong, you would not be the first offworlder that fails to understand us. We just have different ideas to how discipline is attained. Other Drules misinterpret our methods." Lotor was tiring of this game. He did not come hear to debate semantics; and he was quickly tiring of the Imperial before him. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself.

The sound did not go unnoticed. With delight, the Adjunct noted the boy's frustration. The man watched the youth with a clinical eye, noting his frustration. He was enjoying the scene playing out between the two of them. He had no love of nobles or their children; and even less for Korronites.

"I see you are already pulling rank on my poor, overworked ensign. You startled him. Points mean nothing in the Imperial service, experience means everything. We view your rank as honorary; it just tells us how much to pay you. Not that it should matter to the son of the Demon King, but it does to some. Do not make that mistake again. In the future, if I want to see you I will summon you. I doubt we will be meeting again; our time together is mercifully short. I have read your file, Lotor or Carris, if you prefer. You are a troublemaker." The man took a drink and sat down. "State your dire need to see me in the middle of the night, my young _lieutenant._" The humor had gone from his voice.

"My orders are inappropriate. I am a fully trained and certified warmaster. I should be assigned to a command position." The Adjunct watched the pupils in Lotor's eyes narrow to a thin vertical slit. His eyes, the irises barely darker than the outside sclera seemed to be two huge glowing orbs as the cabin lights reflected on his retinas. He knew something of Wyvern biology, having studied up on the subject this morning, in anticipation of their meeting. He was not a stupid man and knew he was dealing with a loaded gun. He knew those eyes were sending a very telling non-verbal message to him. He leaned back in his chair; his relaxing pose only seemed to add fuel to the teenager's fire.

"Not exactly a totally impressive record, you only received a pass in swords. Tell me, why does the Crown Prince of Korrinoth fear the sword?" The Adjunct said. His voice was fringed with curiosity.

"The Master of Arms knew of my true identity. He was sworn to my father. Zarkon wanted me to be treated like all the other students; so Charak downplayed my abilities. Trust me, I do not fear swords. If you do not believe me, I can arrange a demonstration." The man's eyes watched as Lotor put his hand instinctively to his hip. The time the Adjunct was not sure if it was another threat or just a trained, subliminal reaction. The man chose to ignore the action.

"Your excuses make no sense. Any Korrinite would best most students; even most cadets in a warmaster program." Lotor looked down. The man wondered if he was trying to formulate a believable lie.

'"Truthfully, I do not know why he kept me from the other students. I am an excellent swordsman. I would have certainly ranked First in both swords and in the Warmaster Program, had I been allowed to fight."The Adjunct noted the youth's overconfidence of his abilities. The reports had warned of his arrogance.

"But unfortunately, you did not. You took First in Engineering and Applied Physics, unusual fields for a warmaster to excel in. I do not care what your program was, you sre property of the Imperial Advance Force. You do what we say. You are no more to us than a slave is to a Korrinoth. What I say you are, you are. Your academic record screams engineering department to me. You will be assigned to a division that will totally suit your personality. They keep the space carrier's nuclear reactions under control. Think of it as a lesson in self-denial, or discipline, if you prefer to call it that." The Adjunct got up and slapped Lotor's face.

"Lieutenant, do not question my decisions again. We are not on Doom and you will not treat my staff as slaves. Have I made myself clear." The Adjunct growled. Lotor had been surprised by the slap. It really hurt, and his lip was bleeding. The man was stronger than he looked. Lotor looked down at the hand that slapped him; it was almost as large as his father's.

"Certainly, Your Excellency." Lotor answered in a calm voice that betrayed no emotion. "But let us be clear, as I will only tell you this once. Never touch me again. Out of respect for your rank, I will let this slide. Remember, _Imperial_, I still have my royal prerogative to call you to the Emperor's Arena for this outrage. Zeppo might lend you his champion, then again, maybe he will not. And even if he did, the man would die and then I would be free to slice you into ribbons and feed you to my dogs. And with each cut, why I watch you bleed out, you can fairly judge whether you are dealing with a warmaster or an engineer. Have I made myself clear?" It took every bit of self-control he could muster not to tear the man apart with his bare hands. Something, thank the gods, held him back. He was afraid what his father would do to him if he came home disgraced. This man was far more dangerous than he appeared. Lotor could not read his emotions, a fact that he generally did not like. Yet, in this case, he did not want even the slightest glimpse into this man's mind. The Adjunct had not been trained in the martial arts. He knew that Loto couls kill him before he had taken his next breath, but he still physically challenged him. There was something unbalanced about a man willing to take such risks; it made him very dangerous.

"Recruit; get the fuck out of my quarters. Your lucky I do not report you." The Imperial Adjunct said through gritted teeth. Lotor saluted and bowed. He turned a quick heel and smiled. There was no doubt in his mind about who had won this alpha male match.

The Adjunct and he said nothing for the rest of the trip. Lotor's felt the man's eyes staring at him in common spaces. It meant little. He had grown up in Castle Doom where everyone spent their days watching someone else. When they were not picking up new recruits, the man lectured his captive audience on the ins and outs of proper protocol in the Imperial Fleet, whether they are stationed on a space carrier or a small supply base. He carefully explained to all of them what he had told Lotor. Rank meant nothing; an experienced lowmen usually knew a hell of a lot more than a green ensign.

Finally, the transport stopped at Doom. Lotor's father must have been aware that he was on it, but there were no communications that were made. They actually spent a week there. Lotor seriously wondered what was taking the Adjunct so long to return with the new recruits. He had never taken this long before. For days, he stood staring outside the transport's windows watching the storm systems move across the planet's surface. He actually missed his homeland. Lotor worked extra hard to become acquainted with the Korronite recruits. They were as pleasant as his people could be. They brought him up to date on his favorite sports teams. They recounted the latest scandals and discussed Zarkon's latest campaign. He even took it in good humor when they kidded him about his name; joking wondering out load if he was their Crown Prince. When he said he was, with a smile that said more lie than truth, they began to laugh. They knew that Zarkon would never risk his only heir, his brain addled son, in the Imperial Forces. At night, they whispered more disturbing things. The Far Universe, they claimed was on the brink of total war with the humans who were trying to colonize Drule space. Zarkon, he learned, wanted no part in this. He was content to let both sides take each other out and move in when both sides had exhausted their resources.

Lotor, though accepted by the Korinnite recruits, still kept their distance. He was a warmaster. He took his polite shunning with good stead. He made friends with the one other warmaster that had appeared on the transport. He was a Korronite. His name was Gavin and he had just graduated the command school at Firos, where he proudly told Lotor, he had taken First Place in Warmastering. Had Lotor's father kept him home and not sent him to Neraku; that prize would have been his. Gavin had his orders in hand. He was going to be serving as an aide in the command post. Gavin was the officer assigned the spot that should have been his. Of course, Lotor did not blame Gavin for this. It was not his fault.

Gavin told Lotor that he was not the son of a warmaster. His father, Timon, was the Chief of Intelligence at Zarkon's court. He had met the Great King on several occasions. He even took him and his father out to dinner after his graduation. Lotor feigned interest as he listened to the teenager's conversation.

"The Great King paid my tuition since my father has pleased him. He has taken a great interest in my family and has now paid the way of all my brothers too. He is such a generous man. He had been a savior to our family." Gavin gushed on.

"Would life as an intelligence officer been so bad?" Lotor threw back at his friend.

"It does not compare to the life of a warmaster. I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams. I will have a harem." The teenager puffed out his chest.

"A harem can be more trouble than it is worth. Even if you are granted this, you might not live long enough to enjoy it. The average Korronite warmaster lives only about ten years. You might be on a funerary pyre by the time you reach thirty. Most likely, you will not die a happy man." Lotor thought back to his time with Timon. He once imagined this boy's life too. His father had put an end to that fantasy. "Have you killed a man yet?"

"Once in the Arena, to pass the swords requirement. These days there are not so many convicts to kill. Zarkon commuted the death sentences to a life in the lazon mines." The young man said disappointed that he had no great stories to share.

"Do not worry, Zarkon always saves the worse of the lot for Court celebrations. You can kill as many as you want on those days." Lotor looked ruefully at the officer who seemed younger than he was. And if all else fails, there are robeasts and slaves to slaughter."

"As if I could kill a robeast." Lotor noted the deprecation in the voice. Gavin was serious. He grabbed Gavin's hand and put it up to his. It was half his size. Lotor shook his head.

"Zarkon's court is a difficult place to survive. You should consider a permanent place in the Imperial Fleet when your time is completed." Lotor looked at the man child, wondering how the hell this cheerful, good natured teenager was even sitting across from him. Had this been one of his father's cruel amusements?

"My father says the same thing. But I tell you, I am looking forward to swearing myself to Zarkon." Gavin said with excitement in his voice. Lotor knew that the young officer had fallen under the strange spell his father seemed to cast on so many. Lotor grabbed the boy's hand and placed it next to his, even though the recruit towered over him, Lotor's hand was so much bigger.

"There are two types of warmasters; one who earns a degree and one who is born to it. Gavin, it is not your true nature. If you had been born in a warmaster's harem, another profession would have been chosen for you to follow. Your warmaster father would not have even bothered to train you to the sword. Be careful when you are dealing with Hazar's men. Avoid the ones with the big hands." Lotor said as they ate their last meal on the transport. The last month aboard the transport had been hard and they had all developed cabin fever. The confined space was becoming more like a cattle car than a transport ship as it filled with recruits. Lotor would have gone insamne without the good natured Gavin to keep his spirits up. They would be docking with the carrier in three hours; dislodging their recruits like immigrants finding their way to a foreign land.

I do not believe that old warrior's tale. They told us that it is a myth at Firos. You are just jealous. I took First and you did not." Lotor smiled at his fellow officer's pride. Gavin had won that point hands down.

"True, you were First." Lotor nodded his head in agreement. "Let us not fight; there are so few of us Korronites on space carriers to begin with. We need to stick together. The Imperials are going to make our lives a living hell." Lotor pushed the food around his plate. The Modern Drules had developed into omnivores; they seemed to think they could foist evolution on the rest of them by feeding them protein enriched starches. Lotor, like Gavin, constantly felt like he was being slowly starved to death.

"How did you come by your name?" Gavin finally asked the question that Lotor did not want to answer. He had already constructed his lie, but he would have been happier not to have such a foolish thing between them. Eventually, Gavin would discover his true identity but there was time to prepare him for that.

I was born on the same day as the Crown Prince. My mother thought it would bring me good fortune." Lotor wanted to laugh, but he thought it was in bad taste for a man to laugh at his own jokes. A rule he desperately tried not to break.

"I would think it would have brought you nothing but derision. Too bad you are so pretty. If you had been ugly it would have been a wonderful name for a warmaster." Gavin pushed the plate away. Lotor broke out in peals of laughter, though Gavin did not know why. His friend rarely laughed at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Professional Courtesy

Lotor and Gavin grabbed their trays and waited behind the other students who were also depositing them in the disposal racks. He hoped the food would be better on the carrier. They were like small cities in space, and he was hoping that at least its resources would reflect that fact. He knew that the each officer contributed a portion of their pay to their mess and that they ate slightly better than the enlisted. He was wondering if he could make a large contribution. He could go to his father and ask for the funds. The man was always concerned about his weight. He was still growing in height, but he never seemed to put on too much mass. There was no getting around it, he was scrawny.

"Lotor, you are daydreaming again. You have not heard a word I have said." Gavin gave him a shove. "What is so keeping your attention?"

"Food." Lotor said.

"Do you ever think of anything else? You have the biggest appetite I have ever seen for such a small man." Gavin said. Lotor gave him a not so pleasant look. Gavin shrugged. He knew that Lotor was sensitive about his size and should have held his tongue. His friend, he had learned, had a temper when he threw someone else into a bulkhead for making sport of this. He had not meant to offend Lotor; Gavin had the bad habit was stating the obvious. Lotor, however, controlled himself, and took it out on the towering rack of dirty dishes instead. He gave the tray a final, hard shove toppling over the rack that held the trays. The sound of breaking glass and metal utensils filled the dining rooms. Some of the officer recruits actually laughed. Lotor was not the first one to do this, it had been a common occurence as the recruits became more restless. The galley worker, a lowman, had seen it all. He shook his head in dismay. It would take a while to clean up

"Give my compliments to the cook. The cuisine has been outstanding." Lotor grumbled at the man. Gavin sighed as he followed at Lotor's heels.

"I am sorry. Please forgive us. He slipped on a spill." Gavin called out. Lotor spun around and faced him.

"What is your problem? You are so horrible to the lowmen. Just because your mad at me you should not take it out on them." Gavin was exasperated. Lotor was getting more and more belligerent as they approached their final destination.

"Who the hell trained you? Warmasters, even if they are wrong, rarely apologize. They only do that when it serves a purpose. Man up or they are going to eat you alive." Gavin was stung at Lotor's last remark.

"Here you go again, berating me for no good reason. You are so damn jealous, it is unbelievable." Gavin rushed him and both of them hit the floor. He pummeled Lotor, who eventually got the upper hand, and soon his fists were about to come down on his best friend. It was Yorak who pulled them apart.

"Just like in the barracks." The large Drule said. "You just always have to cause problems." Yorak shot Lotor a look of dismay. "We are officers now. We have to stop behaving like schoolboys. This is no longer the Academy. The Supremacy is not going to put up with your fucking temper tantrums." Lotor's eyes flew open. Yorak was being the grown up for once. He seemed different since they had boarded, more mature. He, along with the other Academy recruits, had kept out of his way the entire trip. He knew he was not well liked; but he thought they would have been more sociable. There was nothing to do on this voyage but read, listen to orientation lectures, and talk.

It did not surprise him that Yorak's demeanor had changed. Lotor knew that Yorak's father was a lowman. His son qualifying for officer school must have been a momentous moment for his family; a sign that they were moving up in the hierarchical Drule society. It did not shock him that the cadet had attached himself to Skath. He was not too bright in his academics, but he was clever enough not miss an opportunity to advance through social networking. Now, without Skath, he would have to rely on his own. Unlike Lotor, he could not screw this up. His family would be crushed if he was demoted to an enlisted rank.

Yorak gave Gavin the once over. "I think you are fine. He must like you; he only used the striking blows. He usually uses the breaking ones. I cannot tell you how many times this _asshole_ has sent people to the infirmary. Korronite, you should choose your friends better." He shot Lotor a cold look. "You two should get cleaned up. Do you really want to present yourself to our new commander looking like this?"

Gavin got up to go to the bathrooms first. Lotor meant to follow. He did not plan to apologize, but to attempt to make some sort of peaceful gesture. Yorak held him back.

"Carris, give him a few moments to calm down. I have been watching you with him. You have been riding his ass for the last month. He knows where you went to school. He knows that you are better than he is at all this shit. He is probably pretty scared about going to serve under the commanding officers. He is so nervous that he is not even wondering why, the supposed son of a _magistrate_, would have no qualms about it." Lotor was a little bit taken back. Yorak, it seemed, away from Skath, was a bit more considerate than he ever imagined.

"I assumed that Skath told you who I really was. I am surprised that you did not bring it up before." Lotor whispered.

"It is your business. It serves me not. I was just happy to get off that icy piece of rock I was going to be stationed on. My father told me that the best thing for me to survive the Advance Guard was to meld in with the woodwork. Standing out, something you revel in, is not always the best strategy when dealing with Supremacy Commanders."

"Your father was in the Advance Guard? I did not know. I am impressed." Lotor said. Yorak had never mentioned that fact before. He had just assumed that his father had served in the Second Kingdom's military, not in the Empire's most elite forces. Yorak nodded.

"He received the Medal of Honor for Valor at the Battle of Gedor. He saved over thirty lives but lost his arms in the process. They had to be amputated." Yorak said as he went to his bags and pulled out a med kit. "Your right eye is going to have quite the shiner. That kid has some fight in him in order to take you down. Or were you just in a good mood today?"

"He was lucky. I never expected an attack from him. I let my guard down." Lotor looked at Yorak. "Your father earned a valor citation. This is how you scored the Academy. You had a guaranteed placement. How come you never mentioned it before?" Lotor said as Yorak kindly cleaned up his face.

"Do you think it was easy for me to be there? Either everyone was brilliant or talented or rich. And you, though we did not know it, had all three things going. Wealth aside, the other cadets were so jealous of you. They hated you for being so good at everything, being able to manage two programs and, well, because you are you. Skath even told me that you were amazing with your sword in the Arena, but he knew you would be from the moment you walked in the door."

"Now, consider me. I was just stupid Yorak, Skath's personal set of fists. Knowing how I got there, by the sole fact that my father was a hero, would have just added more fuel to the insults." The giant youth looked over his work and smiled as he placed a liquid adhesive on Lotor's skin, sealing up a bleeding cut on his lip. "You think being Skath's toady was fun. Everything I did, even when he left the barracks, was under Skath's direction. All my experience with Skath showed me was that royals should be avoided. You are pains in the asses, even when pretending to be commoners. You were not the only one who had to live a lie at the Academy, though I cannot figure out why you have chosen to deceive everyone about who you really are."

"My father wants me to have a true warrior's experience. He was a lowman. He was not in the Imperial forces, but he did pretty well for himself." Lotor gave Yorak a smile. "Skath was not too bad to you. He must have pulled some strings. You are no longer a communications officer. You have been reassigned to the infantry. I am stuck down in the dungeon. I hear that the quants are allowed to keep messy bunks. It seems that they were more concerned with us balancing the ships' engines after a jump so that the carrier does not go nuclear. I get to join the weirdoes and the freaks. Horan is there, remember him?" Lotor said, throwing back his hair. Yorak shook his head no.

"Perhaps you belong there. Carris, you are not normal; not even by the loose standards of the warmasters. You are a scary fuck." Yorak sat down next to him and sighed. "Skath did nothing for me. Nivok told me it was Charak that talked the Imperial Adjunct into switching my orders. It seems that he has some pull with the Emperor. He said it would be a waste of my talent to be sending radio relays across Sector 35. Charak was very kind to me after I failed the finals. He even kept training me on the sword. He did not have to. After I received my assignment, I almost dropped out and become a lowman. He convinced me to stay. Not that it matters much now, but he thought that I would have made an acceptable, if not great warmaster." Yorak leaned back in his chair.

"I think that you would be surprised that I actually agree with Charak. I assumed that you had gotten to the Academy due to your warlike tendencies. You can hit as hard as my father and that is saying something. You do not over think things; you make a decision and follow through on it. This is also another good trait of a warmaster." Lotor paused and looked at Yorak. "I may be an _asshole_, but it is better than being a fatalist. If the Imperials can change your specialty from communications to infantry with the sweep of a return button on a computer than why can you not see yourself as a future warmaster? I, it seems, have become a glorified mathematician and I passed our program with honors. Our futures are not written in stone and the pieces of paper they hand us do not even come close to defining who we are. Only the gods know what lies ahead for any of us.

"Carris, please, I do not have to listen to your theories on the gods and predestination anymore. Save it for the other engineering officers. All those science types will have a good laugh." Yorak took a deep breath. "You need to make amends with your friend. I do understand your frustration; he is quite likeable. I am as perplexed as you in how he even made it here. He is not like you and me; this is not his true nature. He is going to need help to get through this posting alive, and you need a friend. He seems to be the only one around here who can stand your insufferable personality."

"We could be friends." Lotor looked at Yorak with a smirk on his face.

"I have had it with princes and their false tongues. And you, you are the biggest liar of all. Sometimes I wonder if there is one thought in your head that is not self-serving. Your really are something. I said it to you in the barracks, and I will say it to you here. I have never met a more arrogant person in my entire life. We used to make fun of you for all the time you spent in the mediation booths wondering what gods could love such a self-centered son of a bitch."

"You do not know the gods of Korrinoth. I am a perfect acolyte." Lotor picked up his chin and threw back his hair. "In fact, I think I would make an excellent High Priest." Yorak actually laughed. Lotor gave him a serious look and lowered his voice. The other cadets had gathered at the observation port; all waiting to see the space carrier. Lotor did not think that anyone was listening, but one could never be sure. "I am not Skath. Yorak, your initial instincts were correct when you tried to advance your position with him. You just picked the wrong prince. My father is very generous to those that help me. Mogor is now commanding my father's new Tactical Attack Squad for the services he rendered. I need you to keep my secret. You need to stop calling me Carris, I am Lotor now. Do we understand each other?" Lotor whispered.

"I cannot make everyone call stop calling you Carris. People will ask why you have two names." Yorak said, wondering what lie Lotor would come up with this time.

"Oh that is easy. I will just say I used my mother's family name. People will understand. I mean it is a horrible name to bear, but I have to use it now. All the commanding officers will start calling me by it. If the others ask, we can say that the Commandant approved. Everyone remembers how small I was when I first came to school. I will say he was concerned that I would just add to the harassment I was already suffering. It is the Crown Prince thing I am worried about. As you said before, it is none of your business. Have I made myself clear?" Yorak sighed. One could always hear that slight threat in the voice when Carris wanted someone to do something for him.

"I do. I am beginning to understand all of these stupid games you _Imperials_ play with our lives. We are nothing but pawns to you." Yorak said with a sigh.

"I am not an _Imperial_. I am a Doomite." Lotor shot back. Yorak associating him with the Modern Drule leadership stung.

"Really. You are what they call an _Imperial_ Crown Prince, are you not? Royals feel it is their right make the rest of us slave away to fill your coffers and send tribute to them. It must not look to bad to you as you look down on all of us from your mighty fortresses." Yorak's voice was barely audible. Lotor was shocked. What Yorak was saying could be viewed as treasonous if heard by the wrong person. He never took Yorak as a reactionary before.

"I do not know how King Meer treats his subjects, but my father's do not slave for us." Lotor growled softly.

"Of course not, he has real slaves for that. What is it now, four slaves for each Korrinoth citizen?" Yorak looked at him and shook his head.

"Ten." Lotor flatly said. "We have ten." Yorak's information was not that out of date, the pads had been updated two years ago. His father's recent conquests and his purchasing slaves from the other kingdoms had driven up the numbers to astronomical heights. A not insubstantial part of his father's planetary defense force was being used to keep the slaves in line, taking his officers' resources. Lotor was not good with slaves. From the earliest age, his father had taught him to treat them as if they were objects and not people. Except for the pleasure slaves and the food servers, they were kept in rags and had an aura of filthiness about them. His father tended to keep non-Drule slaves in their household and had taught Lotor that they were inferior creatures. It was easier to discipline and dispose of something that looked different than you were. His father had only made one exception to that rule; he had treasured his mother. But in the end, she was no better than the rest of him. She was just Zarkon's favorite object.

"My father bought my mother from a Korronite slave auction. No one wants to marry a lowman who is armless. Most women do not want the touch of prosthetics. He said going to Korrinoth was like taking a trip to Hell." Yorak smiled at Lotor. In six years, they had never had any sort of real conversation. This was a strange time and place to start one.

"My mother was a slave too." Lotor said sadly.

"Again, you lie. Your mother was a Queen. Do not mock my lowly birth" Lotor could hear the anger rising in the young man's voice.

"Only by title. She was still his slave. She died trying to free herself from Zarkon." Lotor looked down. "See, we are more alike than you know_._"

"I did not know that. I remembered when she died. The media reported it as a vehicular accident. It was on the news for a month. For a human, she was very beautiful. My father, unfortunately, could not afford such a high end model. I take more after my mother." The youth gave a small smile.

"My father could not afford my mother either. She devastated his soul." Lotor closed his eyes. His face felt like it had run into a truck.

"There you go again with all that religious talk. Maybe your right,no _Imperial _would ever talk like that. It makes you seem uncivilized. Next thing, you will tell me, is that you dance around fires in a loin cloth" Yorak looked at Lotor who shrugged.

"You got to be kidding me?" Yorak said. He shook his head. He had heard that the Korrinites were savage pagans. Lotor, and his rages, had only confirmed the savage part. It seems what people said were true. The lack of sunlight made all Korrinites insane.

"I am not an _Imperial_. I want to hear you say that." Lotor said. There was no rage in his voice, it was almost a plea. "I do not want you to think I am like them."

"Lotor, be careful, you are crossing the line where a Drule starts to believe his own lies. No, you are not an Imperial. You are something far worse. You are the only cadet I was ever terrified of, and the worst part is that I still do not know why. Except for Sharra, we were all afraid that we would piss you off and then suddenly disappear. Just like that. The only reason Katte kept you around was because she was desperate to pass. Her father was impossible to please. She was a wreck when you abandoned her before finals. She called over Skath to help her get through when she should have gone off to the girls' dorms. That is when it happened." Yorak said quietly.

"Your lying. If Katte was afraid of me, I would have known." He grabbed his hair. "Do you see this? I know what people are feeling. I can sense it. She felt nothing. I was nothing to her." Lotor said. He was breathing heavily.

"You were nothing to her. She thought you were below her; just like me and Sharra. But as for your supposed abilities, they failed you. You let your emotions blind you. You were in love with her. We all knew it. It was all Sharra and her talked about when you were not there." Yorak answered slowly. He did not want Lotor to do something stupid.

"She could have gone with Skath during Survival School. Sharra would have switched, instead she stayed with me." Lotor protested. Yorak had to be wrong, him and Katte were friends.

"No, she was afraid that Skath would be to busy playing house and that they would lose. She thought that you would get there first. She really needed the points. Unless she had them, even with passing Integrated 3, her passing was going to be a close call. She was less than ten points away from being rolled back. Katte was using you. She was really mad that you did not win it for her. She thinks you lost it on purpose so that Sharra would win. They did not fight over Skath; they fought over you. Katte hated being left alone with you. She begged me to come over; but Skath would not let me. He was still mad at her for some stupid fight they had over another one of his conquests. And then you kissed her and the rest is history. I do not care what people said, I am sure that she never intended to get pregnant. In a small way, you were responsible for her downfall." Yorak shook his head and laughed. "You four were always so dramatic. Everything had to revolve around you." Yorak ran a hand over his regulation cut hair.

"How did I miss it? The signs were there." Lotor mumbled to himself. Katte was rarely kind to him unless she needed something. Mogor and Charak had warned him about her so many times; finally both of them had given up.

"Korrinites let their hormones overrule their judgment. Now look at my people, the Langorthians. Our marriages are arranged. And if our parents cannot find us a suitable mate, then we purchase or find one for ourselves. There is no emotion involved. You would do well to learn from us." Yorak looked over his shoulder. People were moving around the cabin. He looked at his watch.

"Sure, it is such a great system. Sharra told me her mother did not like her father. She would have rather been back in her warmaster's bed; He got rid of her when a suitable wife was found for him and she never found her mate to be a satisfactory replacement. And your parents, what kind of relationship did they have? I want to be in love with the woman I marry."

"My parents are quite fond of each other. She was the cast off daughter of a warmaster because she possessed the physique of one. Her father had a particularly large brood; and whatever girl he could not marry off he sold into slavery. Due to her size, the auctioneer was trying to sell her as a mine worker. My father was thrilled when he saw her. His children were guaranteed a slot at a top Imperial academy paid for by the Empire and he was hoping she would produce a warmaster. She too was happy when he bought her. She would have been dead in months had my father not stepped in. She was not beautiful. She had no domestic skills. She was vulgar. Her best attribute, as far as I could tell, was that she was grateful. She adored him for her rescue, and he was happy that a woman looked at him as a man; and not a freak. If that is not love than what is?"

"You are Korronite." Lotor looked at Yorak intently. The Korrinites did not have any whites to their eyes, but Yorak's crimson red ones did. Like Lotor, he had the pinnacled ears of a High Drule, far more common in the First and Second Kingdoms. It was not a highly unusual trait in the military classes of Korrinoth either. Unlike most of Korrinoth's civilians , they usually did some Imperial service and many of the men had brought back wives from other Drule worlds. This had gone on for generation, so much so, that they barely even looked like the averge Korrinoth anymore. It was said that a Korronite would mate with about anything on two legs, and there were times, that Lotor was sure it was true. His own background seemed to support the adage.

"Neither do you. Skath was sure you were a guildmaster's son." Yorak said.

"I wish. That would be the life." Lotor answered back. The whole Katte thing was still bothering him and was preoccupied with hoe he had read the situation so wrong. Lotor looked up to find Gavin staring over him. To be fair, Lotor had taken the brunt of the beating; and Gavin barely looked bruised. Yorak had pulled him off before he could do any serious damage.

"I want to apologize. You are right...I have been jealous. I thought I deserved it more than you, but my good friend Yorak set me straight. You know he was in charge of my barrack at the Academy. He always gave us excellent advice. He is very wise for his age." Gavin put out his hand and his arm and both the officer's clasped each others forearm. "He is an infantry officer. His mother was from Korrinoth. He is one of us." Yorak shot him a look. He would have never expected those words from Lotor; he wondered what he wanted from him.

"I thought warmasters do not apologize." Gavin said stiffly. Lotor could still see he was angry.

"Gavin, I am sorry." Lotor said. "I just...I am, as Yorak so wisely pointed out, an _asshole _at times."

"You are always an_ asshole_." Gavin said as he joined the boys.

"My advice still stands true. You forget, I am not a warmaster. I am an engineering officer." Lotor said with a smirk. They all heard a chorus of excited voices in the back of the cabin and turned their heads. Twenty recruits had gathered around the observation port, staring at amazement with what they saw ahead. The space carrier, basically a mobile attack base, was immense. The size of a small city it hung in space, a metallic oasis in the emptiness of space.

Much to Lotor's surprise, he heard there were over two thousand women on board. Generally, there were no women allowed in the Advance Guard. Hazar was an unusual commander.

Yorak gave out a long whistle. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?" Lotor shook his head no.

Ensign Nivok, The Adjunct's aide, announced that those departing for the Space Carrier _Kiros_ should get ready to depart. They would be unloading in the next hour. Several cadets started to take down their gear as the man gave further instructions. After he finished, he walked over to Lotor who was rechecking his duffel; carefully making sure that all of its sections were closed tight. He did not know if they were going to be separated from their personal belongings and he wanted to make sure things did not go amiss. Nivok walked up to him and handed him the familiar looking envelope with the Imperial Adjunct's seal.

"Let me guess, I am being reassigned again. Please, can it be in communications or maybe I could be in charge of waste disposal." Lotor sneered as he ripped open the envelope and read his new orders. He was supposed to directly report to Commander Hazar. He was to be his aide to the Strategic Planning Committee. He looked at Gavin and smiled.

"Nivok, I do not understand. The Adjunct made it clear...", Lotor stopped himself. It was below him to talk to the Adjunct's lackey about his change of fortune.

"It seems that Hazar requires another aide. The position was recently posted." The ensign bowed and left quickly. The answer seemed to convenient to Lotor, but he was not going to ask anything more. He was no longer an engineering officer. Nivok looked anxious to leave. After their initial meeting, he had steered clear of Lotor. He thought the young man was going to be removed from the transport for his previous actions. When he saw that the Adjunct had done nothing to punish the recruit, he knew to keep away. Whoever he was, he reasoned, he had some pull.

"Lotor, this is wonderful. We will be serving together." Gavin gushed, barely able to contain his joy. Sometimes, Gavin's enthusiasm got the best of him. Lotor shook his head. He was not going to only have to watch his own back, but Gavin's too. Yorak was right; he was going to need a babysitter. Lotor had never anticipated that when he shook his hand in friendship.

Lotor saw the Adjunct as he was exiting. The man pulled him aside and silently walked him back to his office.

"Is my Lord pleased with his reassignment?" The man asked. Lotor could read nothing from this man; he was a master of keeping his emotions contained.

"I am. Do I owe you, or my father, a debt of gratitude?" Lotor said, offering a bow. He was the one that put you up to making the original one, was he not?"

"Your father had no involvement with me whatsoever. Do not blame him for all of your problems. I put you in engineering because your Commandant requested it. Why does he fear you so much?" He calmly asked as he looked Lotor up and down. He could hardly believe that such a small Drule had caused so much physical damage to the other cadets at the school. But then again, he hardly believed that he sent another one to his infirmary." The question has troubled me."

"I honestly do not know." Lotor said. "My behavior was not inappropriate; but my reactions were excessive at times. It shames me, but I am working on it." Lotor said, he was biting his lower lip.

"By nature, warmasters are quarrelsome and difficult. They anger easily. I cannot accept that as an explanation." The man fingered the file he had spent a month contemplating. He had his own theories about what made the boy tick, but had no way to prove them. It was rare that he had such a tantalizing case in front of him. Their last encounter only fueled his curiosity.

"How much Wyvern blood do you harbor?" Lotor tilted his head. It was such an odd question to ask.

"Maybe none. It is only a court rumor." Lotor said.

"I have read your medical reports. The Wyvern is in your DNA to a substantial degree. A random rape would not have produced a Drule hybrid. Powerful magic, or shall we say, science that we do not understand was involved. If I recall, it was supposedly the Demon Prince that fathered Zarkon." The man leaned forward.

"Excellency, no one knows for sure. His mother claimed it but most thought she was insane. The gods deemed that Zarkon would exist and so he does. You do not believe in the gods, do you?" Lotor said. The man's office was filled with science degrees. His kind, thought Lotor, are the most skeptical.

THe imperial Adjunct leaned back in his chair. "What I believe is that we create our own fate." He knew that Korrinites were deeply religious. He did not want to offend the recruit; he was just trying to understand him.

"And this is the fate you have chosen for yourself? You are a highly educated. One might say too educated to be in this position. You drift around space most of the year, in your _gilded_ _cage_, separated from your family." Lotor picked up the small video device that was displaying a sideshow of his family. And for what, to pick up recruits for the great Imperial Cause. Is this a life?' Lotor's eyes looked right through the man. The boy, he surmised, was sensing his growing dissatisfaction with his life. He had heard that trait could be very well developed in those that bore the Mark of Jain. Lotor, in reality, had sensed nothing. Every time he saw the man he looked singularly unhappy.

"It pays the bills. It provides well for my family. There is no shame in wanting them to live comfortably." The conversation had taken a decidedly uncomfortable turn. He did not like how the youth had switched the focus to him.

"You would have done well in private practice. No _Imperial_ spends this much time in the Ten Kingdoms unless he is looking to fill a void that cannot be met in the more civilized realm. "Is it sex, drugs or pain that fills your need, Adjunct? I could reward you for reconsidering my posting. I am feeling very generous right now."

"At times, all three. My reward is in serving my Emperor." He said with a soft smile. Lotor was still trying to decide if he was telling the truth or just playing with him. "I did not ask you here to discuss my demons, but yours. I am making decisions that can cost a fellow crewman their lives." The man was surprised that he had even revealed this much to the youth.

"But Doctor, it is so therapeutic to get these things off our chest. I will show you what is behind my mask; if you show me what harbors behind yours?" Lotor flopped himself in the chair in front of the man's desk. the man glared at him. "Oh alright, if it makes you happy, it was the Demon Prince. He took my grandmother, the daughter of Vedik of Daibaza'al, in his true form and she could not bear the memory. After my father was born, she killed herself. My father was still a small child. Zarkon was left to die at the Altar of Sacrifice as Batak commanded. He owns such children. But grandfather relented and took the child back home. The official record is that Farash died from a virus. We do not discuss it." Lotor looked at the man. Suicide was an affront to the gods and carried a great social stigma. He knew that the Korrinoths would rarely marry into a family where a close relative had committed such an act. The family was cursed. He did not know that infanticide was sometimes employed. He knew that the King of the Ninth Kingdom was not born of nobility, He had been raised by a lowman's family. During his reign, he claimed he was descended from the House of Daibaza'al, the source of many legendary warmasters. Of course, like most others, he assumed the Demon King was just making up a story to cement his right to rule. The boy, he was sure, had been indoctrinated from his birth to believe it. the DNA told another story. The boy, if anything, ws hardly Drule at all.

"And how did Zarkon learn about his true father?" The man said.

"The witch Haggar told him." Lotor said.

"A witch...do you know how made up all of this sounds?" The Imperial Adjunct closed the file. He did not want to listen to a fairytale.

"She is the Wyvern witch from the Western Territories. She is very old and very powerful. She served the Demon Prince. She was sent to see what became of the boy. She serves my father now. I think she is still loyal to the Demon Prince's wishes. Do not pretend that you have never heard of her. She puts the Imperial's wizards to shame." Lotor looked at the floor.

"They say the Demon Prince could call the bloodlust at will? Can your father? It is a trait that the Wyvern easily passed on. In fact, they were the ones that introduced it into our genome." The man intertwined his fingers and put them to his lips. Lotor shook his head.

"Even if he was capable of it, he would never tell me. It is against the Law to call it forth in that way. It is an abomination. His warmasters would be forced to take his life. Why do you ask? Are you fearful that I can do this? Is that why you called me here." The boy, he thought, would make a good interrogator. He was always anticipating the Adjunct's next question. "As far as I know, Zarkon experienced the bloodlust once. His warmasters say he is fierce in battle but they have never accused him of that crime."

"Lotor, have you ever felt the bloodlust? According to the humans, you killed a boy on Arus for insulting your father. You were very young to do such a thing." The Adjunct slowly said. Lotor was biting his lip again; he had certainly caused the boy some discomfort.

"I have been trained from an early age to protect myself. The boy caused me damage first. I have never killed without sanction from the state or without cause." Lotor added.

"And who determines if the cause is justified?" The man said. "You have reached the age of majority and by virtue of your Imperial status you could call anyone into the Arena for a thousand perceived insults. You even threatened me with this. Perhaps this is what your Commandant feared?"

"The Commandant never discussed my posting with me. You are the Imperial Adjunct, why did you not ask him what he was afraid of?" Lotor was getting annoyed. It was getting late and he did not want to be viewed as tardy when reporting. It would not have been a good first impression.

"He would have never told me. I think he was afraid of your father. It does not matter. You are no longer my concern." The Adjunct pointed to the door. Lotor did not move.

"How would you know if you had experienced the bloodlust? What does it feel like?" Lotor looked at the man, waiting for an answer.

"They say it feels like pure bliss. And then after, people report that they feel like something inside them was ripped away. In religious terms, they say they feel like their soul has been untethered." The man looked into those glittering yellow eyes bearing down on him. He hated going to Korrinoth, he always felt like he was being hunted.

"I think that is what our priests mean when they say that a soul can be devastated. I tasted bliss twice, but it was not mine. As far as I know, my soul is still attached." Lotor said. "Have you ever experienced it, the bloodlust? Is that why you stay here in the Ten Kingdoms, to taste it again." Lotor looked at the man.

"It is time for you to depart. The orientation officer does not like to be kept waiting." Lotor owed and left. This time the man had faltered. Lotor was pleased that he had made him as uncomfortable as he had attempted to make him.

The man poured himself a drink. It had been a little over a month ago that he was on Neraku. During their second meeting, he had killed the young woman in the hotel. He had not meant to; in truth, he just wanted to touch her again. She did not want him and fought his affections. This time, he did not let her scream. He needed her; and he was fearful that the men would take her away. She bit him and he lost discipline. Somehow, deep down in his subconscious, he knew this would be her reaction. He was paid to predict how people would react in a stressful situation. He also knew what his would be. He was very good at his job.

A feeling of indescribable bliss took him over and he did not remember what happened next but when he regained his senses he was lying next to her dead body. The life had been choked out of her. He felt dead and empty inside and considered taking his own life. The boy was right; devastation was a better word. He knew the drill; this was not the first time it had happened. The owner of the hotel came to his room; this was a property issue. The man showed him the auction receipt and they quickly negotiated his damages. The owner had made a hefty profit on the slave who was not that amicable to begin with. The Adjunct barely noticed when they removed her. He was to overtaken with his own desolation. Yes, the Emperor paid him extremely well for his services. And it was well he did, he had a very expensive addiction. It was too bad he could not call it at will; it took so much effort to provoke it.

Bloodlust killed the human on Arus; that much he was sure of. He had read the full report on Korrinoth. It had taken him three days to make the Royal Magistrate give it to him. He had told the King that he would leave the boy behind if he did not show it to him. He already knew that the boy had been in attendance in Neraku when he was supposed to be on Hestos. He knew the official story was a lie. He wanted the intelligence officer's report. Finally, an angry Zarkon relented. He read it with interest, three other children had severe injuries but they lived. He found other parts of the report to be far more interesting. Other hints in the Academy's reports were there. He had sent many cadets to the hospital; again with severe injuries but no one was dead. Whatever was going on, the boy had some control over it. More, thought the Adjunct, then he had. His warmaster must have seen it also; it was the only explanation that he would keep him from the others. The boy, like him, was an abomination. Sometimes he felt he was the only one out there. He changed the boy's posting. He was an Imperial prince, few made it into their Emperor's service. The man did not like to make waves. But more importantly, he believed in professional courtesy. It was not often that he met another abomination.


	5. Chapter 5

The _Kiros_

Lotor walked through the docking tunnel with unbridled excitement; not disappointed when it opened up to the wide vista of the hanger deck below. It was a cacophonous place and it took his ears several moments to start to distinguish the noises from each other. The sounds of men and metal were swirling around in a delightful maelstrom around him. His eyes spanned the manmade field below taking in almost every conceivable flyer; within moments he had already spied vehicles designed for reconnaissance, attack and medical evacuation. He had looked upon similar scenes as his father's armed forces were preparing an assault but the immensity of the scene below seemed to belong on land not in the depths of space. Lotor was mesmerized and the lowman had to tap him slightly to get his attention.

"Lieutenant, I need to see your credentials." The lowman asked was stationed in a booth. Lotor looked at the lazon field that blocked the way elevator shaft that led down to the hanger. It was not the most insurmountable defense; but it hinted of the multi-layered security he was certain to find on board. Lotor slipped his card through the slot. It was soon returned with further instructions to proceed.

He waited in the appointed area of the hanger dock; amusing himself by identifying the classification of the flyers. Above him he heard the roar of the larger vessels taking off from the roof above them. It was not long before a familiar face appeared to collect him.

"Horan, I do feel like certain parts of my life do not bear repeating." Lotor mused as he grabbed his duffel.

"Carris, you are as charming as ever. Let's stow your stuff." Once they exited the hanger bay they walked in single file, turning against the wall if another crew member tried to pass.

""Pretty tight. Took me awhile to get used to it." Horan said as he walked briskly down the hall.

"I have been on warships before." Lotor flatly said. Horan reached a door that led to an equally tight stairwell; he smiled as he watched Lotor's bag occasionally get wedged in the railings.

"Your berthing space is not much further. Ensigns sleep four to a room; but we lieutenants only have one roommate to deal with." Horan shot him back a smile.

Horan passed his card over the sensor and the door slid open.

"The top bunk is mine. But if you want to switch I am okay with that. The common room and bathroom is four doors down" Lotor looked around the very small room. They bunks were made out of thick white plastic that jutted out from the wall. Their storage consisted of a locked box that doubled as a desk and a their was a locker for their uniforms and other belongings. Mounted to one wall was a monitor under a communication panel.; below that a refrigerator and a microwave. The room was built with efficiency being the driving factor. Horan's things were scattered all over the place along with paper and food wrappers. "It is not much but it is home."

"I am bunking with you." Lotor looked at Horan and groaned.

"We are assigned to the same command division, we are of the same rank, we are from the same region, and..." Horan paused and bit his lip.

"And what?" Lotor impatiently waited for him to finish his sentence.

"My roommate died last week. Ravok was displeased with him and was a bit excessive in his discipline. Carris do not pull your shit. He is a dangerous fuck and he hates anyone from the Ten Kingdoms. I keep out of his way and he keeps out of mine." Horan opened up a small refrigerator and took out a cold beverage; handing it to Lotor. He fished around for another one. Lotor looked over his shoulder and winced at the mess of congealed food in the back.

"We have a lot to see today, so drink up." Lotor shook his head as head as he handed him back the sticky container.

"When was the last time this room was inspected?" Lotor sighed.

"They leave the jumpers alone. I am in charge of the big one." Horan's face was shining. "No one wants to ruffle my feathers."

"I have seen cleaner robeast pens. I hope you are in the mood to organize this mess when we get back." Lotor sighed.

"Sure, destroy the serenity I have created here. You know, I had a pretty rough week. Do not worry, I will get right on it or I am sure I will be berthing in the infirmary." Horan smiled. "I have not forgotten your reputation at the Academy."

"That would be most appreciated. It would be a silly thing to come to blows over. And another thing, my name is Lotor not Carris." Horan nodded; not wanting to bring up anymore unpleasantness between them. "I know. I saw that on the pad."

They spent the rest of the day exploring the ship. Horan started at the bottom where he showed him the massive well protected engine rooms, moving up to the enlisted berths and the medical center. They continued on to the decks that housed the gymnasiums, media rooms, and mess halls. They bypassed the next deck and Lotor asked why. Horan explained that women were berthed there and men were not allowed admittance.

"They are pretty strict about that here. No physical relationships are allowed with the female crew members. Hazar does not want a ship full of pregnant females. It is sort of look, but no touch policy." Lotor rolled his eyes.

They finally made it to the tower; Lotor stepped foot on the command bridge and gasped. The whole ship could be monitored from here. To the port side was a large tactical table that was strategically placed below the Commander's Chair. Lotor could see Hazar comfortably sitting in a high black chair surveying his kingdom. In the center of the room was a model of the hanger bay he first saw. Another model existed for the landing deck for the larger ships that resided on the ship's exterior. Even the ships on patrol were accounted for on another board. One hundred men and women were sitting down communicating to othe's on the vast ship.

"Welcome to the Vulture's Perch. Tomorrow, you will be sitting over there. That is where Bagri used to sit. You are lucky; strategic rarely gets a post opening." Lotor looked at the seat.

"He was a warmaster." Horan shook his head.

"Logistics, but they are technically a part of strategic planning." Lotor groaned. He had been hoping for something a bit more exciting. He looked up at the large brooding overlord.

"That is pretty much it." Horan said. They walked back to their berth while Lotor unpacked and Horan begrudgingly cleaned up his mess. Afterwards, Horan walked him back to the commissary where he bought some things he thought the room needed; most notably food, energy drinks and cleaning supplies. Horan waited patiently as Lotor chatted up the lowman behind the counter; she was gushing over the fact that he was a warmaster.

The next morning Lotor was formally introduced to his new commander, Ravok. Immediately the man sized him up and gave him a cruel grin. Lotor looked at the massive Drule and put him at seven measures. His eyes drrmrd like a solid block of red with only the slighest hint of pupil. His hair was long, black and unruly. Lotor did not even want to look at him. He sensed that the man needed to prove something.

"What has the Supremacy come to? They replaced that incompetent Bagri with a piece of hybrid Korrinite scum." The man whispered into his ear. Lieutenant, I expect a full inventory report of the armory by the end of your shift tomorrow. It is an easy enough task to start with." Lotor worked through the night, exasperated at the amount of work that was before him. Horan, taking pity, hacked into his dead roommates pad, still in his old locker and found Bagri's almost completed report.

Lotor only had to add a few more days' inventory and it was done. Ravok glared at him as he leisurely worked through the day taking a long break for lunch. Lotor handed him the finished report as the day ended. A smug look accompanied the final hand off.

Ravok grunted. Lotor could sense the man's displeasure as he handed him the completed report. The man's disappointment was evident.

"Lt. Lotor, this had better be accurate." Lotor snapped off a salute.

"Sir, I am sure that you will find it to your satisfaction. As you said, it was an easy task to accomplish" It was actually a very difficult thing to do and quite time consuming. His predecessor had been a thorough officer. Had Horan not helped, Lotor would not be having such a confident exchange with his new commander. The next day was far more relaxed as Lotor mostly spent the day checking inventory reports and going through the personnel files of the men and women assigned under him. The supply division had one benefit; it was top heavy with women. Lotor was thrilled to find Ravok preoccupied with the war planning committee and had disappeared for the day. He waved to Gavin who passed him as he followed the other warmasters into the planning room. Gavin ignored him. In fact, he had not seen Gavin at all since they arrived. He felt a little empty as he watched the procession go by, it seems his presence was not needed.

Horan returned from his evening of watching movies in a media room only to find his roommate engaged in expressly forbidden activities. Lotor was happily engaged in his own recreational pursuits which involved a loud, moaning woman. The sheets, pillows and blankets were thrown about the floor; a testament to how quickly their once pristine room had taken on the look of a ransacked village. Below his roommate was the comely female lowman from the commissary; making far too much noise for Horan's comfort level.

"Lotor, what the hell?" Horan slammed down his pad in order to get his roommate's attention. Lotor disengaged himself from his companion.

"You could think of knocking. You do not exactly live alone anymore." Lotor said with a grin as he sat up. The girl was pulling a sheet over her as Horan was looking her over.

"I am reporting this because I do not want my ass in the fryer with yours. You are both idiots." Horan's hand went to the comm center." Lotor warned him to put it down.

"Do you know what the punishment for this is? The whip and three days in the brig on protein mush and bread. I think we can work something out." He looked at the pretty enlisted girl. "Have you ever experienced a lazon whip? It is the most painful thing. I would not like to see anything happen to that gorgeous skin of yours." He leaned over and whispered into the girl's ear. She turned around and slapped his face real hard.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" She yelled at him; obviously insulted.

"I think we already established that. We just need to set a price." Lotor got up and opened his dresser and took out a purse. He threw 5 gold pieces in front of her.

"These are real gold credits. This is half my year's salary." Lotor slipped next to her. "You have made me extremely happy. I was quite stressed out today and you were excellent _recreation_. Now, would it be so much to extend your talented gifts on Horan here and I am sure he will forget what occurred here today. I would be just as grateful." The girl greedily fingered the gold and nodded.

"I am off to the showers, I will be back here in an hour or so and then we can figure out how to safely return you to an authorized area. Lotor threw on a pair of lounging pants, his sandals and a robe. Horan had already begun to undress. The girl gave him a shrug and a sweet smile.

Later that evening, after their door slid closed the young men began to laugh. Finally, Lotor stopped.

"When are you going to ask me about the money?" Lotor looked at Horan.

"I already know who you are. I had to run three encryption codes. Hazar and Mongo are the only ones that have direct access to your file. To everyone else you are just another recruit." Lotor smiled.

"One other person knows, but he is not talking. Take a hint." Lotor started to pick up the blankets. The room looked like a tornado went through it. "You played that well. I as impressed."

"Still, it was your sloppy seconds." Horan laughed back.

"I was showing my gratitude. I am not generous to a fault. Thanks for finding the report. You really came through. You should have seen Ravok yesterday. He was furious." Lotor smirked.

"That is not a good thing. Lotor, this is not the Academy. Bagri was also like you; smart, handsome, and from the Ten Kingdoms. Ravok has filled a graveyard with such men." Horan's tone had turned serious.

"Relax, Horan. I have everything under control." He looked around the room. He had neatly stowing away everything, and smoothed out his bed. No one could have guessed what wild frolicking that had kept the room occupied during most of the evening. He picked up a piece of the girl's hair and placed it in a trash receptacle. Everything was in order, he had everything under control.


	6. Chapter 6

The Rule of Law

Three months had passed since Lotor first came aboard the _Kiros. _Not much had changed. Gavin was too busy with the war planning committee and he was still filing boring logistics reports. Occasionally, the strategic committee sent him a war exercise to do; but generally it was always a logistics problem. Gavin was getting to be the real warmaster while he was setting up fictitious depots that allowed an advance force to travel lighter and hit faster. Gavin was actually interacting with lowmen. He had a hundred men under his command. Lotor had just as many; but they were mostly faceless women who transmitted countless reports. He had been on a space carrier for two months and all he had learned with any certainty was that they served 36,000 meals per day And though he and Horan had pulled off their game a few more times it was too dangerous to make a regular habit of it.

Lotor had been in his bunk reading when the call came. It was Yorak. Yorak, in an odd way, had done better than Lotor on the carrier. His immense strength had not gone unnoticed and somehow he was no longer attached to the infantry division. He had become the right hand man of the commander in charge of security and seemed to be perpetually followed by a gang of military police. As usual, he was someone's fists. Yorak's voice was filled with impatience when he asked Lotor to come down.

Lotor found Yorak with Gavin. He shot Gavin an icy stare; since they had been on board his once good friend had seemingly disappeared and paid him little attention. Horan was alright, but he could be off putting. Mostly Horan spent his evening watching movies, playing video games or illegal hacking in to the ship's computers. Lotor was waiting for the military police to show up in their quarters and carry him off one day. Gavin was different. He always had a smile on his face and a good story at hand. Gavin had grown up on a different Korrinoth than Lotor did; and Lotor appreciated the glimpses into that world he offered.

"Your friend here will not obey his orders; perhaps you can set him clear. It seems he does not like being a warmaster today. Gavin does not want this sin on his soul." Yorak gruffly said. He pointed to the shackled, crying lowman in the corner. Lotor gave the man a quick glance. His head was down but Lotor did not fail to notice the ears that looked more like fins protuding from his head. Whoever he was, he was from Korrinoth. Yorak, angry about something, stormed out of the room.

"Gavin, what is Yorak talking about? Is there a problem?" Gavin slowly nodded.

"I am supposed to execute him. Hazar ordered me to and I cannot. I just cannot." Gavin broke down in sobs.

"You certainly can. It is easy." Lotor grabbed his blaster and walked over tot he man. He pulled his head up and put a gun to the man's temple. The man had given up all hope. He looked at Lotor; his pale yellow eyes seemed full of emptiness. He had seen that look before in the faces of the men and women in his father's dungeons or in the lazon mines. "All you have to do is pull the trigger." Lotor pulled off the safety lock when he heard Gavin scream no. Lotor dropped the man and walked the blaster over to Gavin; slamming it on the table.

"He does not deserve to die. He is a good man who made a mistake." Gavin was sobbing out of control.

"You should do it yourself. This is your responsibility. Warmasters are Zarkon's executioners. Every condemned has a story. You are a Korrinoth; pity does not suit you."

"Lotor, you have no idea how they treat our people on this ship." Gavin whispered; almost afraid that someone was listening. "You get to sit all day at your computer monitor punching in numbers. I am with the lowmen, I see things."

"I am quite aware of that. Perhaps you would like to switch jobs? You can ask your Commander, the one I have never even met?" Lotor grumbled back. "Have you enjoyed looking down on me from the Vulture's Perch? You act like you do not even know me."

"That is because I took your advice. I avoid the warmasters with the big hands. Ravok hates you. He is just waiting for you to slip up. He bad mouths you to Hazar all the time. I thought if he knew we were friends he would start going after me." Gavin looked down. "He says bad things about you."

"What does he say?" Lotor asked.

"He says you are lazy and spend all your time in the commissary flirting with the sales clerks." Gavin shrugged.

"They are a part of my division. I am just doing inventory checks." Lotor said with a smirk.

"No surprises, he writes me up everyday. I am surprised I have not been disciplined." Lotor responded.

"He cannot. Hazar loves your reports. In fact, he is going to order you to write a manual for fleet distribution. Even in the boring world of logistics, you shine. Next month we are securing Taran. It is nothing, a small world. It should only take a couple of days; no one is there. Hazar has been setting up an advanced depot there so we can move in quickly; just like you suggested in the stimulations. Hazar has noticed you." Gavin said with a smile that quickly turned sour when he heard the man sob.

"Then why the depot?" Lotor asked and Gavin leaned over.

"Western ships were spotted in the area. Things are collapsing fast between them and us. They sent home all the ambassadors. They ordered all Westerners back home. They shut down the jump gates that go between the Empire and the Territories. None of this came with an explanation." Gavin's voice was barely a whisper. "The media was not allowed to report that. "Hazar thinks hostilities will break out soon but this is all confidential." Gavin pointed to the man. "I want to talk about Lowman Jaffe."

"What did he do?" Lotor said.

"He tried to desert." Gavin replied.

"Then why the qualms? The punishment is fitting for a coward." Lotor shot the man a look of disgust.

"He is no coward. He has served both the Imperials and the Ninth Kingdom for over twenty cycles. His wife is dying and he wanted to see her. Kill him, and his children will be orphans." Gavin was shaking. "He is a good man."

"He should have thought about that before he tried to flee." Lotor said.

"They punish us differently than the rest. A Modem Drule pulled the same stuff a couple of months ago and he got three days in the brig, no whip. I pulled the discipline records. Korronites always receive far worse punishments. Always. It is not fair." Gavin said.

"Gavin, you are arguing on shaky ground. The punishment is on the books; the court martial officers are the only ones that can reduce the sentence." Lotor looked thoughtfully at the man.

"Your father is the Royal Magistrate. I assume he is licensed to plea in the Imperial Court." Gavin looked at Lotor. Lotor nodded in the affirmative. He did not like where this was going. "He could make a case of discrimination. Zarkon would not be happy his people were being treated so poorly. He is a good king and would want to protect his citizens." Gavin said forcefully.

"Zarkon does not give a shit about his people." Lotor hissed back.

"You always speak ill of our King. You should be ashamed of yourself. You judge him without knowing his heart." Gavin stiffened up. Lotor thought it best to drop the subject.

"Are you sure about this? You better be a 100% correct." Lotor said; his eyes turned toward the man.

"I spent my youth at an intel school. All we did was research. I am sure." Gavin sighed.

"You need to file the appeal. Call the magistrate here." Lotor saw Gavin look down. Fear was in his eyes.

"Hazar will be furious. My position with Hazar is precarious. I have not scored well on my war exercises. I work on them all day and night and still he finds me lacking." Gavin looked shamefully at Lotor.

"You could have come to me. I am very good at those. I could help you. Horan helped me when I needed it; and he is a quant for gods' sake." Lotor reached out to put his hand on Gavin's shoulder.

"I wanted to prove you were wrong. Maybe I did not have the killer instinct; but I thought at least I had the intelligence to pull this off. Now, I wonder if I am even capable of this." Gavin threw his head in his hands.

"Fine, what is one more write up. Give Ravok one more reason to hate me." Lotor did not fail to notice that Gavin looked to the ground when he said those words. "Is he really all that bad? He seems to be all air to me."

"He hurts people when he is angry at them. He can be excessive at times." Gavin left it at that.

"Stand up." Lotor order Gavin. "We have to make it look as if I stopped you." Gavin swallowed hard. Lotor effortlessly broke his arm. He winced when his friend cried out in pain.

"Gavin, you are going to have to report me." Lotor said. Gavin nodded and left. Both men came out of the room to find York. Lotor approached him and smiled. "We need you to call a medic and a magistrate."

Yorak looked at the moaning Gavin. He went to pick him up and shook his head at Lotor. "You are such a son of a bitch."

"Yes I am. Now get me a magistrate." Lotor went back into the room and walked over to the man. He was surprised that he talked when Lotor sat him down at the table. He wished he could undo his cuffs but that would be pushing it.

"Now that your friend is gone are you going to kill me?" The man barely whispered.

"No, I am going to be a better man than my father is. I am going to show mercy." Lotor sighed. "It was a word he had only said in prayer. Detached, it meant something. Looking at this man, it meant everything. You did not see anything in here, do you understand?"

"Sir, why are you doing this for me? You gain nothing but trouble. You will expose one of the _Imperials_' dirty secrets." The man swallowed.

"First of all, despite my appearance, I am a Korrinite. Second, and more important, I know what it is like to lose both your parents. You need to resign after this is all over. Go back to being one of Zarkon's infantrymen." Lotor picked up the man's face.

"That is also hard; harder than this. The King asks much of his army." The man sighed. Lotor looked at his hands and his wrinkled face. Even though he could be not much older than sixty; he seemed ancient.

"The King asks no more of his men than he does himself." Lotor said.

"I know. I was at Diqan when he rose to the rank of Gloryman. I was no more than 15. He was unstoppable, never did I see such a warrior. It was as if the bloodlust had seized him." The man's eyes were shining.

"Was it? Is that how he dazzled his troops?" Lotor asked with some interest. He had heard the tale told by so many others; each giving their own interpretation of what had occurred.

"It could not have been. He would have killed his own men He was totally under control." Lowman Jaffe answered back.

"Do you really think you can save me? " The man started to sob again.

"Relax, I am putting you in good hands. The man who will handle your case can solve the impossible; and this, I assure you is not even close." The man asked Lotor to reach into his pocket and take out a photo of his family. It was weathered and worn.

"This is my family. My wife has the Shakes. She worked in a lazon production facility." Lotor nodded. The Shakes referred to a common name for a terminal neurological disease that many of the workers acquired. The factories were not as safe as they should be.

"She is beautiful." Lotor for once, did not feel like he was lying. He did not find her attractive but he could tell the man thought she was.

"Those are my children; Jessik and Althea." The man was beaming as Lotor looked at their smiling faces.

"Your wife named your daughter Althea. That is not a Drule name." Lotor handed back the picture. A smile had spread on his face.

"It has become very common now. People give it in hopes of producing a girl beautiful enough to catch a King's eye. You know women. Sir, I did not catch your name? I should know the name of my savior." The man looked at Lotor and gave a grateful smile.

"It is Lotor, I am Lt. Lotor." The man looked away. Lotor laughed to himself. The man must be more religious than he was. One never looked at an object of cursed beauty if one could help it; fearful that the infection would spread. Lotor placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

'Do not worry. I am a curse to some; a blessing to others." Both men sat there wordlessly until the magistrate arrived. Lotor filed an appeal based on discrimination against a citizen of the realm. The magistrate gave him a funny look but posted it. It was in the Imperial Court now. The execution was permanently delayed.

Two days later, Lotor met Commander Hazar. It was not for a commendation of his work.

"Lt. Lotor it has come to my attention that you disagree with the findings of the court martial board." Hazar's harsh voice came down around him.

"Your Excellency, I totally concur with the court martial's findings. It is the punishment I disagree with. It is excessive when one compares it to the ones mete out to Modern Drules, or anyone else, when similar crimes are committed. The evidence was provided for the plea packet." Lotor said; his confidence not shaken.

"And to your father's Royal Magistrate who will be arguing it at the Imperial Court next month. My father tells me that Borak is quite good, maybe the best." Hazar's eyes were glowing like red embers in the fire. "It will make me look bad. I do not discriminate against Korrinites."

"Then explain to me why the punishments are more severe. I am curious to your rational." Lotor answered with a hint of rage in his voice.

"Lieutenant, are you being insolent?" Hazar leaned back in his charge; he was a little unnerved by Lotor's challenge.

"Intellectual curiosity, nothing more." Lotor bowed; he sensed the warlord's anger building.

"How many lashes of a whip does it take to kill an average Drule?" Hazar's eyes narrowed.

"Twenty." Lotor answered, not sure where this was going.

"The average Korrinite?" Lotor paused. "Come you should know this well if the tales of your father's court are true."

"Around thirty-five." Hazar smiled. "Modern Drules claim that they do not like your kind because you are primitive; but that is not really the case. It is because you are so stubborn. Nothing ever changes. You still run around with swords, you worship the most ancient and darkest of our gods, and you just never give in or up. The Imperials biggest fear is not the humans; but that god damn father of yours. Why? He did a bad thing. He organized the most unmovable, fanatical people that reside in our great Empire. We need to keep you down, for everyone's good."

"Commander Hazar, do you love your family?" Lotor walked over and picked up a picture of the commander with an older couple and a beautiful young Drule woman. "You all look very happy in this picture. It is probably the only time I have seen you smile." Lotor looked expectantly at Hazar.

"I do not let feelings for my family interfere with my work." Lotor put down the picture.

"I am afraid I probably would. You have no idea how much I crave what I see in this picture. It is not easy being the son of a demon. This practice of yours, designed to intimidate my brethren, is wrong. You can candy coat it any way you would like; but it is still discrimination." Lotor swung to meet the Commander face on.

"You will not win this. It is Imperial Fleet policy." Hazar said.

"I will. Call it a gift, but I always know when I will win and when I will lose. This time, I win." Lotor mused.

"Based on what? I, like you, am intellectually curious." Hazar actually got up from his seat and leaned over.

"Simple. Father is not happy supplying the _Imperials_ with his men anymore. He is looking for an excuse to bring them all home. The Imperial Court will not give him one." A huge smirk broke out on Lotor's face. "Case closed. I win."

"You won nothing but contempt from me. I was actually impressed with you and I was going to move you up to command though Ravok was against it. I can see he was correct in his evaluation of your deficits." Lotor shrugged.

A week went by. Lowman Jaffe was shipped if when the next Imperial transport came by. Lotor had not heard anything more. Ravok kept away from him and he spent the day doing his normal routine. Gavin had even called him over to help with a war exercise. They spent the evening chatting and catching up. He was surprised to find the comm blinking when he entered his room. He rarely received a message. The message simply told him to report to Ravok's quarters at 21:00 hours. It was odd, but not uncommon for a younger officer to be called into a senior's officer's berth.

Lotor entered; again overwhelmed by the opulence of the senior officer's quarters. It was a fry cry from the sterile hole that he and Horan had shared. Fine marble statues, some of legendary warmasters, decorated the corners. Lush carpets and tapestries decorated the walls. A large painting of the Battle of Kexor was placed over a fireplace. The room screamed decadence and Lotor was surprised that Revok lived here. No one but Hazar had private quarters on the ship; that was just the Drule fleet tradition. He was not surprised to see Commander Utor there. He assumed they were berthed together.

"Hazar is not happy with your last reports. Errors were found." Ravok shook his head in mock disappointment." Both men were sitting calmly on a large black leather sofa drinking orange liquor. They were out of uniform; wearing the heavily embroidered robes the _Imperials _favored when off duty and in their quarters. They seemed utterly relaxed when he was told to enter.

"I checked the numbers several times. There were no mistakes. If there were, they were made further down the line." Lotor was beginning to tense up; he could sense malice in Ravok.

"A good officer knows that in the end the blame falls on him." The large man walked over him. A good officer accepts the discipline that is needed to correct the situation. Lotor started to back away. He bumped into the other warmaster who grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Are we going somewhere lieutenant." Utor hissed in his ear. Lotor wished he was anywhere but here. His hand instinctively went to where his sword would be if he was at home. On the ship it was forbidden to wear them.

"No, sir." The man grabbed a fistful of Lotor's hair. Lotor swallowed. Even a Modern Drule knew that was taboo.

"Let my hair go." Lotor protested. "It is sacrilege."

"Here the primitive rant and rave. These Korrinites should learn that their gods are dead. They are no longer capable of retribution." The man pushed him forward and slammed his body unto a table." He looked up to see Ravok smiling.

"I would like to do the honors, but we take turns and it is Utor's. He so enjoys tasting the young officer's first blood and who am I to disappoint him." Ravok brushed his fingers through his hair.

"Offer submission. We will be gentler with you. The other Korrinite warmaster has been quite willing; it is almost recreation. It keeps him up in the Vulture's Perch. Please us and you may be there too." He heard both men laugh.

"Never. Lotor turned and bit into Utor's arm. His canines savagely ripping a hunk of flesh out of the man's arm. He heard the man howl in pain and his grip was temporarily loosened. He was almost free when he felt Ravok pushed him down again. The man was immense. He switched positions with his colleague who left to attend his wounds.

"Now it is just you and me. You are a savage little thing. You remind me of one of my pleasure slaves at home. He was picked up after a raid into the Western Territories. He is a pretty thing, just like you, with that slender physique and pretty ears. Bagri, your predecessor, was also part High Drule." The man whispered in his ear. Lotor struggled, but it was useless. The man was at least three times his weight.

"Now what to do. If I let you go to undress you, you are going to fight. I hear you are quite good at it and I am not in the mood." Lotor felt that grip on his hair again.

"You should let me go or kill me; for I swear anything else will result in your death." Lotor said through gritted teeth.

"I would prefer to kill you. In fact, it would heighten my pleasure. But Hazar was quite specific, he just wanted me to discipline you. I assure you, I fear Hazar more than a small, little hybrid." Those were the last words Lotor heard before he felt his head being slammed into the table and then there was blackness.

Lotor woke up in the infirmary. The doctor told him he had been in there a week; he had been in a sleeping coma. His hair was shaved away and it hurt. He looked at the doctor.

"You had a hematoma on the brain. We had to open you up. That was quite the fall you had, your lucky you survived." The doctor mumbled to himself. The man was not a particularly good liar.

"I want a magistrate." Lotor stared into the doctor's eyes.

"Let it go. You do not want to go there." The doctor shuffled his papers.

"Yes I do. I want to watch you lie under oath." Lotor gave an odd smirk.

"I will not testify." The man was trembling. Lotor's stare never left him.

"You will or Ravok will be the least of your concerns. Do not worry. Hazar will never know. I just want proof I did not give him submission. It is a religious matter." The doctor looked at Lotor.

"I just want to make that statement to the magistrate. I just need a copy of the medical records to show that I was unconscious when I was brought here. That is all." Lotor sighed.

"That is not all they say." The doctor swallowed.

"I am quite well aware of that." Lotor said. His voice faltered. The doctor only confirming what he assumed to be the worse. "I need to make the statement. It is for the priests."

"Korrinites." The doctor shook his head.

Two days later, Lotor was surprised to find Hazar at his bedside. He of course knew about the magistrate visit and the doctor's confession. Nothing of import went by him. He also knew that the papers had been sent off to Korrinoth, a little shocked that Lotor would reveal the shameful thing that occurred. He did not think that was in the young officer's nature; he was told that he was an arrogant, prideful man.

"Your Excellency, your visit warms my heart." Hazar was surprised to find Lotor lying in the bed with a smile on his face.

"I told them to discipline you. They were too excessive. They have been punished. You are being promoted to my command staff." Hazar looked uncomfortable.

"A bribe. How kind. Let me point out, my reports were accurate," Lotor closed the book he had been reading.

"I do not need my ship turning into a bloodbath. I do not care who you are?" Hazar grabbed Lotor by the throat. Lotor pushed the hand away.

"Of course you do, or I would be dead instead of talking to you. Do not ever lay a hand on me again. If you want to challenge me; then bring me to an Arena. I have never offered submission to you or those beasts that you call officers." Lotor 's eyes had narrowed to slits.

"The Taran Campaign is coming up. I need them. Those two are my best ground officers. The men will break without them there." Hazar growled. "It serves me not if something happens to them.

"It serves me not if they live." Lotor fumed back.

"I will have no bloodshed on my ship. Swear this to me, swear it as an _Imperial _crown prince or I will order your execution myself." Hazar grabbed Lotor by the arm.

"As Crown Prince of Korrinoth, I swear I will not spill their blood on the _Kiros." _Lotor felt Hazar back away. The promise meant nothing to Lotor. They were refitting on Drule in two weeks. Borak would know what he wanted; he always did. He never intended to kill them on the _Kiros. _When they died, he wanted to hear the roar of the crowd in his ears. He wanted his vengeance applauded.

Lotor watched as the Imperial Guards emerged from the elevator and approached the two warmasters. There was fear in their eyes and he felt their hearts pounding. This was the Emperor's personal guard and it was useless to resist them. He was joyous in their arrest; his face beaming when they hauled off Ravok and Utor. He almost felt bad for Utor; the man had done him no real damage and he still had a hunk of flesh and muscle missing from his arm. Hazar had also punished both of them. Lotor had returned to a command bridge to find bruised faces and missing teeth. Next to Hazar; there was a new face, Yorak. Yorak's fists were up there to make sure that the peace was kept. Hazar, it seemed, had hired a new pair of fists since discipline was no longer a part of either men's responsibilities anymore.

Hazar called Lotor into his private quarters. "I thought we had taken care of this. I have the Taran campaign coming up and I do not need this bullshit."

"Your Excellency, I promised you no bloodshed on your ship; nothing more." Lotor stood calmly at attention.

"Lieutenant, this does not serve me. Withdraw your petition." Hazar growled.

"It serves me. It is my right under the Law." Lotor's voice was as smooth as glass.

"_Royal prerogative. _Is your Daddy flying in some ringers to the Arena." Hazar grumbled.

"No. My father lets me fight my own battles." Lotor gave a small smile.

"You are not even ranked. These are experienced warmasters." Hazar leaned over his desk. "They will show you no mercy in the Arena. I need no problem with the Demon King."

"My father has plenty of heirs, more Drule than I. Just like your men, I am expendable." Lotor smiled.

"My men are not expendable." Hazar fumed back.

"Those from Korrinoth are." Lotor icily answered. His stare remained fixed on the commander.

"Get the _fuck_ out of here." Hazar dismissed him with the wave of his hand. He did not like the Korrinites; especially when they forced you to look into their eyes. There was always a hunger there.

The two men stood in front of their Emperor. Lotor watched in the back as they pleaded their innocence. The Emperor dismissed the charges about attacking a Royal Imperial; they did not know his rank. It was the second charge that demanded they go to the Arena. They had committed the sacrilege of touching his hair without submission. The men were shocked. This practice was only held up in the Ten Kingdoms and the Western Territories. The Imperials did not worship the Wyvern Empress. It did not matter. The ancient code still held; Lotor had the right to challenge them to the Arena. They smiled. If the Crown Prince of Korrinoth, a puny hybrid, wanted to challenge a full blooded Drule warmaster than who were they to argue. Ravok seemed especially pleased. So did Borak, who had come to argue the case. Tomorrow a special Arena session was called. The Imperial Court was bussing with excitement, the son of the Demon King was going to fight.

Hazar spent the morning looking for Lotor. He found him; in a meditation chamber. Borak was waiting outside.

"You have to stop this. I heard he is going to take both of them on at once. He is insane." Hazar seemed anxious to stop it.

"Zarkon will not blame you for this. Calm your fears." Borak looked at Hazar.

"He has promise. This is a waste of a life." Hazar looked through the doors of the meditation chamber.

"He will not stop. It is not in his nature to let these things go unanswered." Borak softly said. He did not want to interrupt Lotor's concentration.

"Of course not, he is the son of the Demon King." Hazar huffed back.

"No, it is because he is the son of Althea Carris. She would punish anyone who tried to humiliate her." Borak looked on; the boy was deep in mediation now.

'If you will not reason with him; I will." Hazar barged into the meditation chamber. He walked up to the prostrate youth who was naked on the cold marble floor. Lotor was in a trance; his voice was deep and methodical as he recited a private mantra. It never skipped a beat. Hazar came closer. The chant never changed in cadence.

"I am Lotor of the House of Daibaza'al. The blades of Ravok and Utor will not find me. I am the slayer of robeasts." THis went on for several minutes before Hazar though to interrupt. Hazar touched his shoulder only to be answered by a terrifying growl; Lotor's teeth were gnashing and his eyes looked fevered. "Leave me be; this is Batak's time." Hazar slowly backed away.

"It is going to be a bloodbath." Hazar said when he rejoined Borak. It was. Hazar shivered as he watched Lotor slice into the men. His two swords were a blur. He took of legs and arms first; careful not to kill them; their flesh immediately cauterized by the sword. He then turned the lazon off and proceeded with cold steel. He first cut off their genitals and shoved them into their mouths so he would not hear their screams. He then sliced of noses and ears. He left their eyes; enjoying them until their last flicker. And then not satisfied, he slowly sawed off their heads hoping they still felt pain for his was still raw. Charak stood next to his Emperor, shocked at what he saw. He had never taught him to be so thorough. There was silence before the crowd broke out into cheers. Lotor bowed. If someone had looked closer they would have seen the fevered look in his eyes. They would have also seen the bliss on his face. And last but not least, they would have been horrified to know, that after he had experienced all of this; that his soul was not troubled.

Hazar said little to Lotor in the following weeks. He was assigned the same war exercises as the other junior officers; and nothing much was said about the missing commanders. It was if they never existed. Lotor found Hazar working late as he slipped a report on his desk.

"You think you were so clever. Taran is days away. Usually, you and Gavin would be considered too young to be field commanders. Now, I have no choice. " The commander gave Lotor a sad look.

"Your Excellency, I still win." Hazar shook his head as the young officer left. The man was an arrogant thing.


	7. Chapter 7

Roses

"Sir, I am fine. I can hold out for a few more hours. I am worried that the line will break." Lotor yelled back into the comm, his voice was nearly drowned out by the sounds of the battlefield. The two armies had been at a virtual standstill for a month. The Westerners had pushed into Imperial space and had occupied a small, livable planet that the Drule High Command seemed desperate to take. The Western army was over ten times bigger than the 3,000 men that the _Kiros_ could muster as ground forces. Their anti-aircraft guns and tactical squads had rendered the usual attack plans as useless. They were being supplied by Wyvern technology and Lotor was just waiting for a robeast to appear. So far, they had been lucky.

"I do not need another drug addicted officer. Zandu says that you are pill popping again." Lotor sighed as he looked in his hands at the colorful pills. He had only just opened up his pack to retrieve them. The other lieutenant had given him the eye. _Fuck Zandu_, Lotor thought as he looked at the other warmaster.

"You are relieved. Lt. Gavin is on his way to replace you. Zandu will cover. I am ordering you to take a full rest period. Have I made myself clear?" The gravelly voice intoned.

"Yes, Your _Excellency_." Lotor slammed down the comm.

"Zandu, you better not fuck this up." Lotor grabbed his pack and shoved the comm back into its compartment.

"Like it matters, the line had not moved in days." Zandu shrugged.

"They are getting ready to do something. I can feel it. We should just give them this hunk of rock." Lotor mumbled.

"Another one of your hunches." Zandu said.

"No, just a calculated guess. One of us will have to do something soon. We have blocked each other's supply lines." Lotor sighed.

"Westerners do not like to fight. They probably will retreat." Zandu offered.

"I do not think so. That is why they landed such a large force. They mean to take Taran. I just wonder why, after decades of peace, they started causing problems." Lotor said as he got up to leave. "It just does not make sense."

"Does anything about the High Drule make sense?" Zandu asked as Lotor walked away.

Lotor went back to the makeshift base and found his quarters, a sturdy tent in the compound that seemed to become more and more ragged each day. He felt like they were all refugees trying to find shelter from a storm that never ended. He had already lost forty of the men that had been assigned to him under his command. He was now beginning to understand the phrase that lowmen were just fresh material for the Imperial meat grinder. Like all Imperial officers he was kept in a mostly safe position, far from the front. He threw his pack down and fell unto his cot; the sheets nor he had been washed in over a week. At this point, all of the men reeked and he had almost become immune to the stench. He was exhausted. His head was pounding. He popped another pill. It did not take long for him to find sleep.

Lotor woke up on a hill. His head was in someone's lap. He did not need to turn around; the heady rose infused perfume betrayed his companion. They were high on a hill; overlooking a villa. He knew the design well. This was the home of the Carris clan. He had seen pictures of it when he had been on Arus. He had snuck into the Royal Library in the middle of the night on a secret mission to find anything out about his mother's family. He knew, in the back of the villa, was the garden his mother talked about so much. It had been famous for its prized roses; one particularly fragrant hybrid being named after her – the _Althea_. Zarkon had gone to great expense to bring them to Korrinoth. She had planted a greenhouse full of them.

He smelled the food in the basket next to him and he sat up to look. He had been eating MRE's for a month now and the smell was totally tantalizing. He ripped into the basket full of delicacies. "All of my favorite little _shoshis_ I see. Mother you always spoiled me."

"Not enough. There was never enough time, was there?" He turned around to look at her. She always remained the same. Her impossibly blue, almost violet eyes, still hypnotized him. She seemed sad today.

"We are at your home. I do not think you ever brought me here before." Lotor casually said. It was a pleasant day; with only a hint of the coming autumn. A cool breeze blew from the west; it brought the scent of roses. He took a deep breath, pulling in the heavenly scent.

"Summer is almost over. Your roses will be gone soon." Lotor watched her kick off her sandals. She wiggled her toes and smiled at him. He had forgotten how, at times, she seemed much younger than her years. She was positively charming.

"They are like you, specially made. They are quite hardy and last longer than most. It does not matter what disaster befalls them; they always come back next year. Do you like the oak tree? I used to come here to think." She pushed the hair out of his face. "What troubles you? Why have you called me here."

"My men are dying. My head hurts. I cannot see the solution." Lotor closed his eyes as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"And you expect me to have it? I was no warrior." Althea said with a sad smile. "I was a slave, nothing more."

"You are a human. I have a field full of Drules on both sides. We may be _smarter_ than your kind; but we lack your creativity." Lotor bit into a savory piece of meat wrapped in a light crust and fished around for a bottle of wine. He poured her a glass.

"You want answers after you have insulted me. Remember, little one, you are half human too. I was not an _idiot_, nor did I give birth to one." She shook her long blond hair and stared him down.

"I apologize for my insensitive remarks." Althea's mock seriousness melted away and her ridiculous grin appeared. Althea had been the only one who could ever beat him in a staring contest.

"Lotor, I am disappointed. Warmasters are never suppose to apologize." She looked down at the hill and pointed. The villa was now in ruins. Lazon blasts streaked across what little remained of the once pristine white mansion. Lotor looked back at her.

"I am sorry Zarkon destroyed your home. He should have left it standing." She betrayed no emotion.

"Arus stopped being my home years ago. I should have never tried to return to her. I do not miss it. I always preferred Korrinoth. It is you who have chosen this place to meet." Althea shrugged.

"You cannot be serious?" Lotor stood up and flung his arms open. "Look at this beauty compared to my world."

"Rural farms. Women of my station were practically confined to them. It was not lady like to go into the cities. I felt so trapped." She turned her head to look at Lotor. "My father was better than most men. He could not resist me anything. He let me learn how to fly, but still I was to remain here." Althea sighed.

"But you did not stay here." Lotor sighed. You paid dearly for that."

"I ran away with a handsome trader. He was the son of my father's rival. We thought we could start trading with the Drules. We were young, foolish and so madly in love. I could not bear to see Zarkon cut him down. It is said he died in the lazon mines." Althea pulled her shawl closer.

"Again, how can you say you prefer Korrinoth? It was nothing but misery for you." Althea shrugged.

"It was not all the bad. I loved the city of Geron. Your father would take me there often." A wistful look appeared on her face.

"He tried to kill me there. You remember when he threw me into the ocean. That thing grabbed me and it started to squeeze the life out of me. I could not even breathe." Lotor shot her a look of dismay.

"Posh. Zarkon jumped in right behind you and killed it. It took a few minutes to revive you but you didn't seem to suffer any permanent damage. You are still such a baby." Althea's words seemed to glide over her perpetual smirk, taunting him to respond. "Don't you remember the resort we used to stay at, the one with the tall slides. You loved those. And at night, the lightning storms were tremendous. The worst I had ever seen. They were fantastic."

"You mean terrifying. I crawled into bed with you and father. He laughed at me for being so afraid." Lotor said with a stiffened lip.

"But he always let you come in, didn't he. Only in Gershon. He did not like to share me at all, so be grateful. He secretly liked all of us cuddled up together. It just was not something he could do at the Castle." She sighed.

"You are romanticizing our holidays. You hated Korrinoth. You hated Zarkon." Lotor kicked away a stone that had made its way unto the blanket. The sun was setting.

"It was complicated. He did spoil me. He brought me to so many beautiful cities. He gave me almost anything I wanted; including my roses. The only thing from Arus I really missed. He even gave me you. I should have never tried to leave. You are so angry at me for that. Will you ever forgive me?" Lotor shook his head.

"Why, why did you do it?" Lotor stiffly said. "If things were not that bad."

"Arrogance. I had conquered the Demon King. But like all great conquerors I made the fatal mistake of not knowing when to stop. I pushed further than I should have with no resources to fall back on. The knives of my enemies fell upon me. Be careful, you have inherited my character defects." Althea gently took his head into her hands. Tears were flowing down his cheeks.

"Do not cry. There is no pain here. We have spent too much time on me. We need to address your problem." Althea gently took his hands in her lap.

"We are on a plain flanked by two massive rivers. They have a much bigger force. They have well trained men and superior technology. We have two tank divisions but we do not have enough men to do sufficient damage. We need to get behind them." Lotor sighed.

"That's easy enough. Humans were so obsessed with that scenario. Coran taught you an ancient battle that sounded just like it, remember? Drules are such brutes. They always want to hit straight on. You, on the other hand love deception. I swear, you lie more than any other Drule I have ever met." She ruffled his hair and giggled. "Do not forget to be at the front of the battle. Your father said he succeeded because he dazzled the troops. Officers today like to hide behind the lowmen."

"Now you sound like father." Lotor mused.

"He had some good ideas, not many, but some." She paused and looked at him. I take it you are going home for the Festival of Kitor?" She said.

Lotor nodded. "It will be my first leave. I have not seen father in over a year."

"I am particularly glad I died before I had to see that. I would have had to marry your father just to avoid it." A naughty grin appeared. "A mother should not see those things."

"Nor a son." Lotor laughed back. "You would have sent me into therapy for years."

"Do me a favor. During the festival, put one of my roses at your father's seat. It is a small thing I ask." Althea gave Lotor the look that no man could resist.

"Althea Carris never asked for a small thing in her life." Lotor softly said. "Where on Batak's nose would I find your rose?"

"My greenhouse. It is still there, is it not?" She answered impatiently.

"Yes, I walked into your greenhouse the last time I was home. But no one cared for it after you died. It is full of weeds. It is devastated." Lotor sad softly; a look of sadness in his eyes. They had spent many hours in her greenhouse together. She loved her roses so much that Zarkon hired perfumers to capture their scent so that she could smell them all year.

"Lotor, we can never truly destroy that which was so loved – not when those who remember it still exist. My roses were very strong. Their thorns kept them well protected; so much so that little could get close. One rosebush must have survived. You just need to follow that sensitive Drule nose of yours. It has other uses than finding a meal or a woman ripe for mating with. We have an old Terran saying that says to _stop and smell the flowers_. You should learn to have a bit more fun; you are always so serious." She gave him a little push.

"There are no flowers on Doom." Lotor sighed.

"Not until Althea Carris came. And I was the most beautiful one of all. Korrinoth cried when I died." Althea slid back on her sandals. She kissed him on the forehead.

"Again, you are leaving me." Lotor sighed.

"No. I am always here for you. Just remember what I asked. It is such a small thing." Althea smiled.

"You have finally learned to lie." Lotor said.

"Have I? Things can get so confusing . Sleep well." And then Althea Carris was gone.

Lotor slammed down the alarm. He headed immediately over to the concrete bunkers that contained the few grounded attack flyers that had survived the initial assault.

"Tell Captain Perik I need one. I need to see Hazar." The lieutenant looked at him and shook his head.

"You would not be the first officer who deserted in this fashion." Lotor pushed past the lieutenant and walked into the concrete hanger.

"Captain, I am borrowing one of your flyers." Lotor said as he made his into the cockpit.

"It is insane up there. You will get shot down. You are not even suited up." Perik yelled up at him.

"Well, then it does not really matter." Lotor said as he pushed the controls that slid the canopy over him. Perik was not sure but he thought he saw the young warmaster take off.

Chaos ruled over the small planet. There was no massive firefight but there were concentrated skirmishes that punctuated the sky. Lotor was thrilled to be behind the controls of a flyer again. This one handled even more smoothly than the one at the Academy and he easily avoided the casual shot that headed his way. He was disappointed when the enemy did not come after him; he had only ever taken down virtual targets before. A kill on his record would have been sweet.

Lotor was not entirely surprised to find Hazar in the landing bay. He was sure that Perik must have signaled the _Kiros_. Hazar waited impatiently as he walked over; his long strides quickly bringing him to the receiving area. Captain Mongo was standing next to him; looking eager to hear his reports.

"I assume that you have riveting news from the front to try something so foolhardy or is this just another one of your ridiculous stunts." Hazar looked Lotor over. The officer was not exactly presentable. "Or perhaps you thought you needed a vacation."

"As always, Your Excellency, you are correct. I need a vacation. But I am not going to get my leave until we get off of Taran." Lotor smiled confidently. "And I have a plan."

Lotor watched in amusement as the senior officers debated the efficacy of his plan. It was unusual and daring but kept pointing out that it had never been tried before. Lotor pointed out that it had. On another world, and in a different time, but nothing else had changed. You had a large overconfident army facing a smaller one. The only thing that separated them was lazon energy shields. The Imperials needed to drop theirs after reinforcing the flanks with the majority of the tanks and men. With a small front, which looked deceptively larger, they could backpedal the men in an orderly retreat. The enemy would barely notice and push on. The flanks would then crush them in a pincher movement. They would replay an ancient Earth battle.

"I need several officers in the front. They have to keep the men steady. It will only work if the lines hold until the flanks can get around the main force. The men, lacking the main force behind them, will be nervous. Only if they see that we are willing to risk our own lives will they stay." Lotor looked around the room.

"I will join you. " Hazar said causing some excitement around the table.

"So will I." Mongo joined in. Two more of the senior command staff quickly offered up their services knowing that many junior officers would have to follow. Hazar looked pleased. It was such a simple strategy, he wondered why no Drule had ever tried it before.

Three day later the Battle of Tanar would go done in Imperial history as the perfect rout; sealing Hazar's reputation as their foremost commander. The main army was tricked into the feint, and as it happened thousands of years before, which resulted in a total annihilation. Historians put the deaths of the Westerners at a hundred a minute. Commander Hazar took the credit for the amazing strategy and the victory that resonnated throughout the Empire. The commander of the Advance Guard seemed unstoppable.

Lotor was granted his leave with a small commendation on his record. He and Gavin were taking a shuttle to Nedvok, the nearest Imperial port, where his father had a fast transport waiting for them. It was time to come clean to his friend who was he was. Big deceptions were so much easier to deal with than the little ones; that was certainly true for him. For some reason, it was harder to tell Gavin the truth than to put into motion the plan that sent 30,000 souls to the afterlife.

Gavin had been quiet since the battle. He barely said a word to Lotor after they boarded the shuttle. His friend's silences were growing longer and longer these days. Lotor was grateful that the Festival of Kitor was soon. They both needed a distraction from the Imperial war machine.

Lotor could still remember the cries on the battlefield as the men squeezed the High Drules in together. Mostly he heard the blasters, methodically shooting down the outside of their lines. He preferred his lazon sword; hacking away limbs instead. It was cruel but he did not care. It was like Arena practice; but all of his senses were heightened as he pushed through. He could hear the cries for mercy and see the terror on men's faces as his swords crashed sown. He was not even aware of the fact that both were drawn until the day's work was over. Caked in blood and sweat; he later found Gavin. Where he was full of elation; his friend looked wracked with despair as they watched the lowmen sack the bodies and finish off the dying. The lowmen were caught up in the looting and Lotor spent the rest of the afternoon breaking up the fistfights; and even participating in one or two as Gavin watched his tireless friend.

""You are in a good mood. " Gavin quietly said.

"Why would I not be? It went off perfectly. We only lost 200 men and they lost their entire ground force. They have withdrawn their fleet. Taran is ours. Warfare, when done correctly, is like a masterful concerto." Lotor threw his arms up and took a deep bow; looking for his friend's applause.

Instead he received a stony glare. "Were we at the same place today? This was a bloodbath. It was horrific. We cut them down like animals. There was no honor here." Lotor grabbed his friend's blaster and looked. The charge should have been almost depleted. Instead, it was full. Lotor started blasting away at the dead bodies around him, draining as much as possible. Yorak, in charge of a security detail, came ambling over to see what was going on.

"Lieutenant, what is my old classmate up to now?" Yorak looked over the strange scene. Gavin saw that he noticed his unbuckled holster but said nothing.

"My blaster was having problems. He offered to help." Gavin looked nervously at Yorak. Lotor did look like some insane idiot blasting away at the bodies.

"Really, I just thought he was just really making sure they were dead. He was always very thorough in simulations." Yorak paused. "If I recall, Lotor was never particularly enamored with blasters. In the future, if you are having a problem it is best to take it to the armory. They will reissue you another one."

"The next time it happens I will be sure to follow your advice." Gavin said. Yorak continued to watch Lotor who was methodically shooting the dead and shook his head. Eventually, he walked away. Lotor handed Gavin back the gun.

"You can play pacifist all you want; but unless you are looking for a court martial learn to fake playing a soldier. They would have noticed a charged gun when we handed them in today for servicing. Gavin, you need to talk to Hazar. This is not where you are supposed to be." Gavin shook his head.

"And here we go again. In a few years this will be over. I will be back on Korrinoth and things will be easier." Gavin sighed,

"No, it will be harder. You do not know the court of the Demon King." Gavin lunged for Lotor who caught his friend's fist before it landed.

"And you do? I have never even seen you there. I have attended so many festivals. I have met most of Borak's children but I have never once seen you there. I am beginning to wonder if you are not just telling one big lie. It would not be your first. Even this battle, in a way, was a lie."

"It was a deception. There is a difference. I am sorry that you cannot take pleasure in the campaign that I planned. I, for one, shall add the name of Hannibal to my prayers. The great Terran warrior has served me well." Lotor added. Deep down Lotor was upset with Gavin for not acknowledging that he had accomplished something great here. It was the first major battle that he had planned and it had gone off splendidly.

"What happened to this Hannibal, this warrior god that you are adding to your endless prayer list." Gavin shot back.

"Fourteen years later, the other army came and destroyed his city. They salted it to the ground, killed the men and sold the women and children off into slavery. After all, they were the better army, both numerically and technologically speaking. It was only a matter of time." Lotor stopped for a minute and looked at Gavin. "It will be like that for us. All we ever do is worry about the humans but our future was on that battlefield. This was only a punch in the nose for them. The Westerners are coming."

"You sound like a seer. Stop this mad talk. The only future I am contemplating is a clean bunk." Gavin said as he spun around; sick of the fading screams and laughter of the men. They had landed on Teran six months ago. They had lost over 1,500 men for a small piece of rock; only important because one could barely breathe the air and drink the water.

Lotor could not sleep and he was the one who awoke Gavin as they landed on Nedvok. Gavin yawned. It seemed that all he ever did was sleep these days.

"It is a shame that we have to spend 75% of our leave traveling back and forth; but I am desperate to see my family. You must be excited to see yours. How many brothers and sisters do you have? My father stopped counting.

"Borak and Dreidal have 11 children." Lotor answered.

"That's an odd answer." Gavin said. Lotor decided it was best to come clean.

"I have one sister. She is married with four boys. She lives in the Tenth Kingdom." Lotor looked at Gavin and waited for a response.

"I am right; you lied about the _Royal Magistrate_ being your father. Let me guess, your father is a lowman and you just could not bear that everyone was from a higher social class. You are such a fucking liar. You know, I would have liked you anyway without all your bullshit. The Neraku graduates are right; you are bad news. Let's find the next transport home."

"I had my reasons." Lotor answered back. He knew Gavin would never understand.

"Do not bother. I am so tired of fighting with everyone and everything." Gavin answered; his voice full of annoyance at his friend's latest deceit.

"We do not have to go to a booking agent. Our transport is waiting." Lotor looked as the two members of his father's Royal Guard approached; the skulls on their uniform belts glistening white. Gavin's eyes flew open as the men approached them and fell into full submission.

"Prince Lotor, we are here to escort you. Follow us." Lotor motioned Gavin to come; his friend speechless. Lotor could sense his disappointment as Gavin entered the cabin set aside for him. For the next three days, he barely came out save during mealtime. It was always the same excuse; he was sleeping. Lotor knew that all Drules lie; and Gavin did, but only to himself. Gavin had crossed that dangerous line.


	8. Chapter 8

Arus Revisited

Lotor left Gavin at the docking port. They would meet again in two weeks for the Festival of Kitor. Lotor was sensing a distance between them that had only been growing since the Battle of Tanar. Soon after, Gavin at been moved down three levels to the Navigation Bridge where he spent his days entering command codes into computers. Lotor had his suspicions to why; but neither he nor his friend had discussed the move. Lotor, knowing what is was like to be far from the Perch, thought it was best not to bring it up.

Borak met him there. They had only seen each other but a few months ago; but the man acted as if he had been away for decades. Borak ordered a slave to carry Lotor's duffle and ushered him into the kitchen. Piles and piles of his favorite things to eat were awaiting him. The man knew him well and soon they were talking as if no time had passed.

"The _Imperials _are starting to call you the _Prince of Statutes_. " Borak said with a laugh. "Your lowman won his appeal. Lotor clicked glasses with Borak. "The Fleet Commanders were not happy."

"...And father." Lotor said; expecting some sort of praise for his initiative.

"Equally annoyed. The punishments were an excellent inducement for many of his soldiers to come back home." Borak sighed.

"I never fail to disappoint. And where is Zarkon these days?" Lotor asked. "I did not see his cruiser when we landed."

"He is on Terrox. He will be home in a couple of weeks." Borak said.

"Avoiding me as usual." Lotor shook his head and gave out a deep laugh. "Why do I even bother? I could be on Tyrus, getting drunk, chasing loose women and catching vile diseases."

Borak did not argue in the defense of Zarkon; there being nothing to say on the matter. 'The twins are turning nine. You know how he loves to throw a big birthday party. And why we are on the subject of presents...I want to show you something." Lotor could see the twinkle in Borak's eyes as they walked back to the transport bay. His father's soldiers glancing twice at the Imperial officer and then snapping to attention when they saw it was their prince. They stopped at a small hanger. Borak presented a key card to Lotor.

"Finally, my own personal flyer." Lotor's eyes were shining. "Even Gavin got one when he was 16." Lotor said when he swiped the card over the control panel.

"His father did not have to pay tuition to an Academy. These things are expensive." Lotor raised an eyebrow at Borak's comment. "Trust me; this one would have been a waste on Neraku." Borak chuckled. "I can assure you that this one was worth waiting for," Lotor stepped into the hanger and gasped. Black and magnificent, it was a pilot's dream come true.

"_I have died and gone to heaven._" Lotor cried out.

"What a strange phrase. I assume that is one of your Arusianisms. I take it to mean that you approve..." Lotor nodded enthusiastically.

"Field generators. It has field generators." Borak laughed having no idea what he was talking about as he watched the young man loving run his hands down the sides of the metallic beast. He jumped into the cockpit. "It has a tachyon jump drive. Do you know how much a miniaturized jump drive costs?"

"I have no idea. Your father purchased it while away." Lotor spent the next hour calling out all the various instruments. Borak just nodded and smiled; not understanding anything about what Lotor was talking about. He just liked watching the excited, extremely happy face of the usually solemn young man pop up to declare something as phenomenal or beyond worthy. Borak thought it had been a foolish acquisition as it was not a standardized flyer; replacements parts could prove difficult. He saw many other flaws. For instance, it only had room for one pilot. It was very fast and could prove hazardous if the prince lost control. Mogor, however, had insisted that the boy would handle it well. Zarkon had spared no expense in bringing the bat like monstrosity back with him from his last unannounced trip to the Territories. It had cost 20 million standard units of lazon; a king's ransom. Borak was surprised when Zarkon handed Borak the key to the hanger and announced that he would be spending most of Lotor's leave at Dharlock's Castle. Zarkon should have been enjoying this moment, not him.

Finally, Lotor came down. He wanted to immediately take it for a spin but Borak demanded a good night's rest first. Lotor had to agree. They had been constantly warping for three days straight to get there and it did affect one's sense of orientation. It was best to settle down. After dinner, Lotor took a walk. He, as usual, avoided his father's hunting grounds. Instead he found his way down the path that led to his mother's greenhouse, the door had broken off and it was tossed to the side. Inside, it was filled with weeds. There was nothing there to even hint that the roses had been there except for a few rotten stakes in the ground. He had hoped to find at least one small bush there. The Althea in his dreams had lied to him.

Lotor made his way up to his room and opened the door to find that his room had been redone. He thanked the gods that the couch was still there. His bed was now covered with silk duvets of black and gold and the walls were painted to a red not of his liking. A statute of Batak, dressed in warrior garb was placed near a small alter in the corner. He was not happy. He spent the rest of the evening going over flight maps, planning his first excursion in his expensive new toy. Exhausted, he slipped into the bed and fell asleep; anxious for the morning to come.

Lotor rushed through his morning rituals of prayer and exercise, doing the bare minimum to fulfill his sense of obligation. He could not help himself; he was a creature of habit. He wolfed down his breakfast and ran to the hanger deck. With a big grin, he pulled out the card and swiped it. He practically tripped over himself scrambling into the cockpit. His excitement growing, he did a systems check and rolled it out for its maiden voyage. It did not take long for him to get it airborne, and soon he heard the chatter of his father's men on the comm. At first, he did not know what to say. He was a fool in not clearing his departure with the command center. With ease, he avoided their warning shots as he tried desperately to get them to acknowledge him. Finally, worried that they would send a tactical squad to bring him down, he shouted that it was Lotor, their Crown Prince, and he would find out who fired the next shot and make them that evening's Arena entertainment. Finally, a voice that was more reasonable came over the comm. It was a bit squeaky, almost sly, and he asked the prince why he did not have a clearance code.

"No one thought to give me one." Lotor lazily replied.

"Sire, Demon Spawn works for me. Are we good?" The voice shot back.

"Someone has a sense of humor." Lotor growled back.

"Sire, would you prefer royal pain in the ass. You trigged off half our defense systems." The voice hissed back. "It is going to take hours to reset all of this. Your father will not be amused."

"Then perhaps we should keep this between us. What is your name?" Lotor shouted back.

"Sire, it is Captain Cossack. I am going with Daddy's Boy." The man cackled.

"Whatever turns you on. I will be away for the day, and maybe some of the night." Lotor turned off the chatter,

"Sire... May I inquire where you are going?" The creaky voice asked.

"To get some flowers for a lady." Lotor smirked as he punched in the coordinates of his flight computer. He closed his eyes and braced for the jump.

Before him, in the distance, awash in blue and white was a perfectly formed sphere. His fingers trembled as his hands flew over the controls. He was amazed at how effortlessly the flyer glided through the atmosphere and how quietly she landed, its thrusts fixed with an advanced hush kit. A shiver went through him as he heard only a gentle hum. He knew that sound well. He had heard it on Taran. He wondered where his father had gotten the flyer from; it reeked of Wyvern technology.

His first stop was the Carris estate. It was battered but had not faced the total destruction of his dreams. As he walked past the villa, shovel in hand, he thought he heard voices whispering. There in the back, some of the rose bushes had indeed survived. The garden was nothing like his mother had described. Half of it was now growing vegetables. He looked up to see human faces peeking out a window. A girl, not much younger than he was, an almost his height finally stepped out. From the moment he saw her; he knew she was a Carris. The thick blond hair, the full lips, and the intense blue eyes all screamed of his mother's people. He wondered how they were related. She had a blaster leveled at him. He put his shovel down and slowly moved his hand toward his sword.

"Drule, we want no trouble." The voice was steady and confident.

"I am not here to cause any. Just came for a rose bush." He said.

"You animals have taken all of my family's livestock, valuables and most of the servants and now you want our roses. Does it ever stop?" Tears were forming in the young woman's eyes.

"We will stop when there is no more to take." Lotor hardened his heart not wanting to connect with this woman. It was easier to just think of her as another human than kin. "These belong to Althea Carris." In shock, she momentarily lost her focus. He had pulled out his sword, ready to deflect any shot.

"I am Althea Carris. I am all that is left of the House of Carris." He felt the terror in her as he approached; sure she would shoot but she made no attempt to fire at him. He made a quick run and grabbed her wrist and forced her to the ground. He gently pried the Drule blaster from her hands. He looked at the empty charge and laughed. She scrambled to her feet.

"Were you going to throw it at me? It takes more than that to kill a Drule." He said.

"I know. I have killed one." She said through gritted teeth. Looking at the blaster, he believed her. He took a few steps toward her and she matched them with retreating ones.

"A thing you should not confess. But take cheer, your tale is safe with me. I am a man who has hidden a corpse or two. It will be our little secret." Lotor said in a conspiratorial tone. He moved closer with a joyful smile. He reached out to touch her hair; amazed that he had found a blood relative here. His first reaction was to ask her a hundred questions. He desperately wanted to see the inside of the house that his mother had grown up in. Perhaps, there were pictures of her in it as Zarkon had destroyed her image. Maybe he could have one; just one. He felt her stiffen to his touch. He realized that this was all madness. He was Drule and she was a human; it was best kept to that.

"Are you going to rape me?" She said. Her eyes stared icily at him. He knew that the Korrinites had been cruel to the women of this world. He had even spied several Arusian pleasure slaves in his father's Castle the previous night. Had he not been so caught up in the flyer he would have probably taken one or two to is chambers. In fact, if he returned in time, he was definitely in the mood for a human. Weak and submissive, or full of fight, he found them a delightful bed companion. She would not guilt him out of that pleasure. The only thing that had dampened his lusts for her was that she was most likely family. He caught her stare and then after a few moments he backed down. He had not meant to scare her.

"I was not planning too...I am sort of on a tight schedule. But if that is your fantasy ...I am sure something can be arranged." He said with a smirk. "I just came here for a few roses, nothing more. Althea Carris, I will trade you one fully charged blaster for one rose bush. A young lady should not be out here undefended. You have no idea what can be lurking in the woods." She nodded in agreement, not sure of what to make of this Drule. "That is, after I finish loading the bush."

The woman watched as he carefully dug out the bush and tied a sack of some sort around its roots. He was a methodical man and when it was over tried to brush the dirt off of his own clothes as best he could. He smiled and waved to her when he was finished. She trailed respectively behind him as he brought the bundled bush back to his ship. He stumbled and some of the thorns found his skin. He heard her laugh when he cursed at his misfortune. He turned around knowing he would see a delicious smile, reminiscent of his mother.

"Come. Your payment." He called as he waved the blaster. She shook her head.

"One can't trust a Drule. Throw it to me." Lotor swung it over. She easily caught it. She leveled it at him. He shook his head.

"Carris, we had a deal. Put that down. You do not even have a clear shot." His deep voice shouted at her. He thought it strange to hear him call out the name that was usually directed at him.

"But I do have a shot. It does not have to be a perfect one." She was surprised when he answered her back with a laugh. She had decided that this Drule was a bit touched in the head.

"I did not know that Arusians have learned to lie. Their word was their bond. I just came for the roses." He gave her his most pleading look as he double checked the storage bin.

"The Drules have taught us how to deceive. It has not come naturally." She said as she put down the blaster.

"Well, do not feel too bad. Terrans do it all the time. Arusians did not have some magical genetic predisposition to be honest. Deep down you are just humans." He walked around the flyer one more time; ignoring the girl. He knew she was not going to shoot. She was fascinated by him and too brave for her own good.

"Grandfather always says the Drules were obsessed with his roses; they came by all the time to buy them. They paid a fortune for these. That is, before we went to war. The funny thing is that they only wanted his; they never bought anyone else's. What is so special about them?" He had to give her credit. Most humans would have run away scared. She had a lively curiosity.

"They were unique. For a while they could survive the harshness of Doom, something no other flower could. But in the end, they too succumbed. Their beauty is sorely missed." He seemed lost in his own thoughts, finally his attentions turned to the woman pointing the blaster at him. "Carris, I am sorry you are the last one. I truly am." He wanted to tell her that she was not; but he knew that knowledge would only make matters worse. He had nothing to offer her to make up for her loss.

The woman watched the odd Drule jump into the cockpit of the flyer. It was a thing of beauty. She had always wanted to fly and she heard the aunt she was named after was an exceptional pilot. The woman had taken to the stars and never returned.

The young woman walked back to the hole and picked up the shovel the Drule had left behind. She looked at where the rose bush was and sighed as she filled in the hole. It was dangerous. Someone could trip and sprain an ankle or break a leg. Run of the mill accidents had become dangerous things. Once, what had only merited a simple trip to the hospital had become a death sentence. It was a far different world than she remembered as a child. She looked up at the sky; the flyer was long gone with its seemingly precious cargo. Althea and her damned roses had more than a name in common; she thought as she packed the earth. They had both escaped this interminable hell hole that was called Arus.

Lotor had one last stop before he headed home. He landed in a forest clearing near the once glorious Castle of Lions. His mood was heavy with anticipation and fear s he approached; his memories threatening to upend his outward calm as he drew near. He heard laughter, something he had not expected. He had seen the wreckage of Arus's cities and farms as he flew over her lands. Though still beautiful, it was now scarred and torn; desperate for repair. It was not a place for such a joyous sound. He climbed a tree and waited; his predator's instincts flooding his senses. It was a small group of women, only four of them. They had been collecting dark berries in the forest; their hands occupied with the baskets. Three of them appeared to be servants of some sort. They wore grey dresses with white smocks; some stained with red juice. These women interested him not. He was fixated on the fourth.

At first, he noticed the sun's glint on her hair. It's thick, wavy locks were infused with a warm golden color. It had been loose save for a braid that pulled back her sides. Her skin, the lightest shade of pink, was flushed with the day's activities. Her eyes glittered like sapphires in the afternoon sun, crystal blue pools that he wanted to get lost in. Her dress, though its intentions were modest, highlighted her ample curves. His eyes feasted on the hint of cleavage that was exposed when she twisted to return the banter of the servants. He had found his prey.

The women did not notice the rustle of leaves that accompanied their movements. Eventually, he found them in a position he found desirable and decided to make his move. He jumped between the young woman and her attendants who scattered at the sight of the Drule. The others were not his concern. He reached out and grabbed her wrist and tugged her close. His mouth was open in a grin, exposing the fangs within. He expected her to scream but instead he felt her hand slap his face; causing him to almost to lessen his grip. He growled; the woman's strength surprised him for her size. His other hand went around her waist. She screamed as he pushed her back against a tree.

"You need better servants; yours seem to have abandoned you." She again tried to hit him, but this time, after the briefest struggle, he grabbed both hands and pressed them against his chest. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, pressing her so tight that she could barely catch her breath. She had just enough room to force her head back which led him to bury his own face deep into the crook of it. She felt a sharp nibble that pinched her skin together. It seemed to be some sort of warning and a promise at the same time. Eventually, he picked his head up and stared into her face. His pupil's just a sliver. She saw herself reflected in those large, golden eyes and shuddered. The girl's eyes were filled with tears.

"What is your name?" He whispered. He sensed her hesitation as if she was hiding something. Perhaps, he thought, she was ashamed to find herself in this position and did not want to engage in conversation with him. Lotor ws surprised at the number of servants in her attendance and reasoned that she must hold a high position in the remains of their tattered society. Zarkon, for the most part, had stopped enslaving any more of the population. The cost of the transport had begun to outweigh the number of slaves his occupational forces could easily round up. What clusters of people remained, like the wild animals of Arus, made excellent sport.

"Ava." She finally answered back. He backed off of her a little; his hands still firmly gripping her arms. He looked appreciatively at her; as if she were a sculpture. He finally let go of one arm. He put his gloved hand to her mouth and his pointer finger traced her bottom lip.

"Ava, you have a pretty mouth." He licked his lips in anticipation of their taste. He leaned in to kiss it. He gently nibbled on her bottom lip. He could sense she was afraid and it only heightened his enjoyment. He pressed harder hoping she would return his kisses but she did not. Frustrated, he looked at her. "You are so lovely. Are you of noble birth?" She said nothing. He continued his exploration of his captive. She was helpless.

"Ava, we should be friends. Would you like to see how a Drule takes recreation. We can play a rough game or a gentle one. Which do you prefer?"" She stood their motionless as he threw off his gloves and unbuttoned her gown. He took his time, as if nothing could possibly interfere. He placed a kiss on her back with each button he unfastened. She felt his lips press through the fabric of her undergarment, patient and insistent. He watched in delight as it fell to the ground and he made her step out of it. He kept his tone calm but forceful; treating her as if she was one of his lowman who needed to have orders repeated again.

"Ava, you are such a smart girl. I only have gentle affections for you." He murmured as his slow assault continued. Her few protest were answered with kisses. He untied the plain corset she wore, lingering a bit at the straps, placing kisses where they laid upon her skin. She was trembling. Her hands had permanently become placed upon his chest but the struggle was gone. The corset too fell, leaving only her panties and stockings. Her hands now moved from his chest so they could cover her own breasts. He chuckled and pulled her hands away. His eyes seemed to feast on the now freed mounds of pink-tipped flesh. His hand barely grazed the side of her breast and she jumped back. He pulled her close to him and started to tease her with his tongue and teeth and was pleased when his gentle torment caused her nipples to stiffen.

By now, he was beyond aroused. He pulled off his own cloak and dropped it down to the ground and told her to lie down. His eyes were full of hunger and lust as he pulled away the bit of fabric that protected what modesty she still had. He left her stockings on and he ran his hands up and down her legs, until he found the delightful roundness of her rear which he lovingly cupped. He seemed to delight in tasting her skin; his tongue everywhere. Finally, she felt the pressure on her legs increase as he pulled her thighs apart. She gasped as his mouth fell upon her womanhood. Again, her protests, now more forceful fell on deaf ears. Her hands found their way into his hair and tried to pull his head up but again it just ended up with her hands pinned to her side as he crouched up between her legs. His tongue made insistent circle eights on the outside, and then, thrusting gently into her folds. She started to moan. He sensed her growing arousal which only caused him to double his efforts until he felt her shudder and spasm under his probing tongue. Her legs were shaking, He chuckled at her response; knowing that it was his skill over her desire. Her obvious inexperience had made her a pliable, easy target.

Lotor inched up. He wanted to see her face flushed from the pleasure he had just gifted her. He truly loved the feeling of a woman losing some control under his touch. He could sense their passions building; their more primitive emotions coming to the surface and it only served to excite him more. The girl turned her face away from him ashamed at what she had just experienced. He ws sorry that she felt so inhibited in her desire; her body built for sin. His own erection was swelling against his clothes. He loosened the drawstring on his pants and freed it. She looked down; fearful of what she saw. He was not as immense as a full Drule and the women he had were not particularly intimidated by what they had seen. In fact, they had been relieved. He was beginning to understand why women preferred to take hybrids as pleasure slaves. This woman, however, looked at him as if he was going to rip her in half. He had never been with a virgin; and he wondered if this triggered off the fear that had replaced her earlier want. Tears were flowing down her cheeks and for a moment he remembered another Arusian who could cry rivers. Perhaps, it was a common trait of Arusian females. For a moment, she looked so young, almost childlike.

"Ava, how old are you?" He said. She maintained her silence. He grabbed her hair and forced him to look into her eyes. "It is a simple question, answer it"

"Eighteen." A look of disappointment flashed in his eyes as he considered the situation. He placed her hand around his throbbing member and started to move it back and forth until he found a rhythm that suited him. It was hard and furious and he kept putting his hand back on her to guide the pressure and speed. She protested and he whispered in a ragged voice that there were many other ways he could use her body to relive his need; this being the least invasive. She glanced down as her small fist wrapped around his purple headed cock. She was surprised at its velvety texture. She was even more shocked when he placed her other hand on his heavy balls and bid her to stroke them at the same time. It was becoming hard work and her arm began to ache. He fell on his elbows why she worked her hand up and down the shaft; now forcing his hips up to meet her hand. He was practically thrusting himsef into her fist begging her to move faster. She looked down at the angry dark purple slit that glistened with clear beads of precum. She had gone to never seeing a man's penis before to handling the large, demanding member of a Drule. She was grateful that he had not taken her; she could only imagine what his body pounding into her would have felt like let alone her hand which was beginning to tire. His breathing was getting more and more ragged and soon he gave out with a growl and a nash of his teeth as if had expected to bite down unto something. He erupted all over her hand like a small, violent volcano. She would have lied if she had said she was not curious a little bit to see what his body had just done. with interest she watched it spasm; each triggering off a reaction that made his whole body shiver. She was surprised when he stayed just as rigid and was afraid he would like to try another way to deflate its stiffness. Instead, he used her panties to wipe up the large gooey puddle on his stomach and tucked himself in. He ordered her to put them back on. "A trophy, if you will, of your first conquest." He grinned.

Lotor threw her clothes to her. A sense of relief crossed her face and he watched her relax a bit as she put on her clothes. He gave her an explanation; though it was not required. Arus had shorter years than Doom. She was considerd to young to mate with on his world. "You are not of the age of majority. Get dressed." His voice was gruff. The lower half of his body protesting the choice he had made. He did not know why he gave her this out; it was not reserved for slaves or in her case; a spoil of war. It was a respect that you gave a free born Drule woman; preserving her innocence until her body was ready to handle a Drule male with no injury. Had she said she was a year older he would have arranged a transport and had her delivered to his father's court in time for the Festival of Kitor. She would have caused a commotion in his father's court; and for a brief moment he had a small fantasy of fighting off the other warmasters for her. She would have been the first female to join his harem. And though, at first, he would hardly be with her due to the remaining service he owed the _Imperial_s– he could imagine her becoming a favorite. Maybe, she would even bear him children. She would produce beautiful daughters; useful for alliances.

Lotor looked away as she placed her undergarments back on; more because he saw her blushing. She mistook his continued erection for arousal but his lust had been saited. She had been lucky, if she had smelled fertile it may have played out quite differently. He was still entranced by her beauty and had no idea why he had stopped himself from fucking her. It would have been far more satisfying. She had been rather inept and he had to keep redirecting her. The attention he had to give to her technique took away from his pleasure, which in truth, had annoyed him. Her body was not that of a child and he had expected more of her. She remained totally quiet and he sensed her confusion. One part of her; he was sure, had wanted this. Her body, if not her soul, was ripe for the taking - almost aching in its need. She was shocked that he helped her button up her dress. He turned her around and smiled in a courtly manner. She did not look so happy. He sighed.

"_Ava, _I would not share what went on here. I have left you intact for your future husband. No one needs to know. It will go better for you," He stood in front of her, his admiration was evident. "You really are an exquisite creature. My actions were excessive; I hope you can forgive me." He swallowed, surprised at his attempts at an apology.

"Never." She hissed. Lotor shook his head. She was an ungrateful thing, but he admired that she had the nerve to say even that. He grabbed her by the wrist and placed her hand on his still rock hard cock.

"I was generous with you today. You should appreciate the fact that I did not spoil you. I am not alway such a gentleman." He grabbed her and kissed her one last time, pausing to linger. It had been a harsh kiss and it took her breath away. He kept on her mouth until he needed to come up for air. His finger again tracing the bottom lip, memorizing its contour. He would place this memory well. She had been sweet and he was already regretting that he did not complete his conquest. His teeth grazed her neck. "You have no idea how much I wanted to be the first to taste your blood."

"What stopped you?" The woman seemed less scared of him. He did not know why; nothing had changed. It would only take minutes to lift up her skirts and taker her. He was sure that she had been aroused and still slick with desire. He laughed at her arrogance. The earlier female with the blaster had been less uncertain about what he would do, curious but more frightened. This one was challenging him; perhaps she was angry that he had not completed the deed. He had sensed her confusion; and her want.

"It was not appropriate. Let us leave it at that." He shrugged; picking up his cloak and knocking off the debris of the forest floor. "I bid you a good day." She heard the cloak click at his throat; secured by a small, jeweled skull. She focused on the skull instead of looking at him. Unhurriedly, he walked away. She did her best to smooth her clothes and hair. Her skin was flushed but she did the best to compose herself. It could have been worse. She sucked in her breath. She was confused. She lived a sheltered life. He had made her feel things that both shamed and excited her; and a small part had wished he had continued. She was ashamed that she had not protested more. He was still as beautiful as she remembered; maybe even more so.

Ten minutes passed before she heard several loud voices appear. An older man ran up to the young woman; his breath ragged. Coran was too old to have run so far, so fast. Several younger men were behind him; blasters drawn.

"Princess, the women told us that a Drule was around the grounds. They said that he had detained you." The man was looking for the gentlest words he could to describe the situation.

"It is over Coran. Nothing happened." Allura said. Her regal nature overruled any of her agitation. "It was Lotor. The Drule was Lotor." Allura said, her voice shaking.

"Are you sure?" She nodded. The hair, the eyes and the countenance had not changed much. She was surprised that he did not recognize her but then, as far as the Universe was concerned, she was dead.

"Did he recognize you? It is important that Zarkon still thinks you are dead." Coran said with a tone of desperation. "Our people are hanging on by a thread as it is. He would hunt you down if he thought you were still alive. He wants nothing for our people to rally around. You are a threat."

"A threat....how can I be a threat? Arus is in ruins. There is nothing we can do to stop this nightmare." Allura's voice broke out in sobs.

"Princess, did that monster hurt you?" Coran looked her over. He did not see signs of abuse but still he feared that he somehow comprised the girl. She shook her head no when he implied it.

"He will be back. I know it." Allura collapsed to the ground. Coran nodded. He knew it too.


	9. Chapter 9

The Temple of Batak

The steaming vapors filled the dimly lit room, making it almost impossible to see anything behind or in front of him. One could hear the drums, almost matching the beat of his own heart. He did not see the face of the priestess that brought him to the edge of the pool.

Lotor could smell the sulphur in the hot spring; a supposedly gift from Batak. It was hard to find any natural sources of warmth on the surface of Korrinoth and those few that did exist were revered. He still could not see her, the thick steam blocking his view. But he felt her hands, from behind, remove his robe; feeling the fabric glide down his body and settle down to his ankles. The bath was stifling hot and sweat was trickling down his back and chest. He smelled the warm oils she was drizzling on his shoulders which were then replaced by her hands, massaging them in. His head was swimming; he had drunk the Wine of Clarity. Only when one could not distinguish between the line of reality and dreams would the gods speak. The oil, infused with lavender, sent a shiver up his spine. He wanted desperately to see the Priestess behind him; knowing that all those who served the gods and goddesses were always beautiful. He felt the softness of her breasts on his back as she pushed him into the sacred waters.

The insistent hands kept pushing him to the center of the pool; where a white marble ceremonial altar rose out of the water. Through the wisps and vapors; he could make out a visage of the woman; her long dark hair brushing against the water. He saw jewels on her neck; catching whatever light they could refract. He stumbled in the dark; bringing their faces close together. He gasped in recognition of the woman. It was Katte; more beautiful than he remembered. She silenced him with a deep kiss. He sunk his nose into the crook of her neck; luxuriating in the smell of estrogen in her skin. She was in season. He pulled up his head in surprise.

"This is sacrilege." He moaned as he sat her on the altar. He wanted to stop; it pained him to anger the gods. She was for the High Priest. He looked her over remembering his previous want and turned his face in shame for the sin he was contemplating.

"No. It is rare that one such as you; beautiful enough to worship the gods, enters the temple. It would please Batak." She whispered; though her voice seemed everywhere.

"How have you come here? These are not your gods." He took her face in his hands; his hands were not gentle. He wanted an answer.

"Serve the gods and all your wishes will be fulfilled. Anything you ever wanted, or needed, will be yours." His lips found hers again. Softly he pressed into them. He leaned down, biting into her neck. He heard her scream and he smiled; deep down glad that she had suffered. He pulled her back up and plunged himself into her. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist which only encouraged him. He felt the water splashing up against him as he took her. She felt him clawing at his back and was encouraging him to come. He held back. He was in no rush; the drugs dampening some senses while heightening others. He pushed her down further into the cool slab of marble, pressing his entire weight on to her small frame. She was screaming; he did not care if it was in ecstasy or pain as he ripped into her; he took out his revenge on her body. She sounded like she was suffering which only fueled his efforts. He did not care when he heard her whimper, the drugged wine, heightening his sour mood towards the woman. Finally, he came. She clung to him tight, intent on holding him in.

Katte started to stroke his hair and give the little growls and nips that should have encouraged him on. She threw back her head and exposed her neck which he lapped at enthusiastically; tasting the hormones in her blood. He had never mated with a woman; and the thought, at this moment, was foremost in his mind. Recreation alone had left him wanting; knowing it only hinted at the total ecstasy that came from completing giving oneself to another.

For a moment he was cognizant of his actions, he stopped and gazed upon the woman not knowing what to do. These women were reserved for the High Priest. All the children in the temple had been fathered by one; he had never heard of any other man being allowed to touch a priestess. He had been bestowed a great honor. He was given a priestess to mate with; if she caught his child could one day be a High Priest or Priestess; bowed down to by the masses and loved by the gods. Then another image came to his mind. He saw his father slitting the High Priest's throat after the Atonement Festival and he shuddered. His people worshipped the dark gods who demanded so much and gave so little. He would have no child of his sacrificed for their vanity. Suddenly, without warning he pulled out causing the woman to claw at him in fury. She begged him to re-enter her knowing that the time to initiate the tying would end soon. He grabbed her arms and pulled her tight.

"You are not the one that Batak has chosen for me. I am sorry. I belong to another. I have kissed Allura; Allura is mine." The words came out of nowhere. He whispered them trying to soothe her and him. It took all he had to withdraw from her and his body was trembling. She had been his for the taking; a mating with no commitment was a rare thing to be offered. He must be mad to turn her down. He opened his eyes; and then, she was gone. Beneath him was a priestess; who bore a slight resemblance to Katte. She had long brown hair and dark green eyes. She clung to him desperately as he tried to shake off his confusion.

"Lotor, release her." A voice out of nowhere commanded. Lotor slowly let her go; she was still snarling at him. He backed away quickly and ascended the stairs to exit the pool. The High Priest handed him a robe. The man was also incredibly handsome, that not even being the right word. He was magnificent. His skin was the lightest shade of blue Lotor had ever seen on a Drule. He had the look of a Westerner with his High pinnacled ears and his perfectly formed features. His hair was the darkest red; it fell in heavy curls around a face that belonged to an angel. His eyes were light brown flecked with green and seemed to change in intensity when he talked, matching the tone of the seductive voice. They were almond shaped; and unlike Lotor's they had the same appearance as human eyes. This had always appealed to him. This priest did not have a drop of Korrinite in him. He was a High Drule through and through and Lotor wondered how he had come to this Temple. Lotor all of a sudden felt inadequate as he stood next to the man. His musculature was still almost non-existent; he felt perpetually trapped in a teenager's body.

"Come with me." The man motioned. He held Lotor's robe in one hand. Lotor felt like he was moving slowly through the water. The man opened the robe and slipped it on his back. The priest smiled and with a look of pure ecstasy, as he ran his fingers through Lotor's hair. He reached down to kiss him. It was neither sexual nor chaste; but almost worshipful. Lotor shook it all off wondering if he was imagining all of this. He had drunk so much more than the others; it was almost getting impossible to hide his addiction. Or maybe, it was all part of the many rituals of the day. He was being initiated into the Cult of Batak; he knew that all religions had their Mysteries in order to excite passion in its believers. He reasoned that the woman in heat and the impossibly beautiful man would appeal to a large part of the young male Korrinite population; few showed strong gender preference for casual relationships until their hormones calmed down.

Lotor was sure that he was in some sort of ritual. The High Priest had chosen him to play the role of Bashir. The woman in the water was playing Keturah; Bashir's wife. He felt the man take his hand; leading him away from the pool. The cool marble against his hot feet felt like ice as he walked down the ancient halls. He said nothing as the High Priest kept touching his hair; he seemed absolutely delighted.

"You are an impossible one. I gave you Keturah and you rejected my gift. This time it was not so easy to figure out how you were connected. Then, I gave you Katte and it is the same result. You were cruel. Your savagery, as usual, was excessive. Does that mean you love Batak again?" Lotor said nothing. In his other dreams he knew the people; this man was a stranger. The man lifted his chin up and looked into his eyes; trying to understand Lotor's lack of response. He shook his head. "Why do you not answer me?" Regardless of your feelings towards me, you are being disrespectful. I came here as a friend, not as an enemy." He stopped walking and spun around to face Lotor. He gave him a puzzled look.

The High Priest led Lotor into a room. At the back wall was an altar. In the middle was a large white couch; resembling the one that he had in is suite back home. The High Priest motioned for him to sit. Lotor swore it smelled of roses. The man sat next to him. He was a graceful creature, bred for beauty. Lotor was nervous that the man was so close; worried that he might want more than a few kisses.

"Such a shame that Batak and you are still at war with each other. Unattached, you are a tempting thing to go for. That is a game I would love to play, but seeing what you have put Batak through I do worry. He is already so jealous that you share your affections with Keturah." The man sighed; a hint of lust and sorrow haunted those eyes. Lotor did not say a word; fearing the High Priest would make him partake in a ritual not to his liking. Lotor considered the man before him. He was more than curious about what it would be like to touch him and this shamed him. The man seemed to sense this and gave him a wicked smile. Lotor wondered how the man could be so calm, so sure in his faith, He knew the man would be dead in a matter of months; a perfect specimen to be sacrificed to the gods.

"Lotor, you are lucky I have a priestess who needs attending or I would have taken my due." His gaze was mesmerizing. "Why did you tell the priestess that you were married when you are not?"

"They were just words to calm the Priestess down," Lotor said with a shrug.

"You lie to a High Priestess, something few Drules would ever think of. But then you are from the House Dabaiza'al." The man laughed. "It is in your nature to speak falsehoods so freely. It always has been. I never know why Batak tolerates it so; but then, you are useful at times."

"Does Batak speak to you?" Lotor's eyes lit up. He prayed to Batak all the time; but his prayers were never answered.

"I amuse him when he is bored. He has a much closer relationship with you. I hear you spend hours in your devotions to him." Lotor slowly nodded. It was not this man's business to know these things. "Even when you are apart; you both obsess over each other." The man looked up at the ceiling. "You fear that your dreams are something more than your Wyvern neurotransmitters playing games with you."

"Perhaps." Lotor said softly. The wine was causing him to be dizzy.

"Why do you still pray to him after all that has happened to you. Most would choose another god to worship." The voice was a bit harsh; almost annoyed that Lotor maintained his obedience to Batak.

"He has brought my family great fortune." Lotor said.

"And an equal amount of misery. There are kinder gods to choose from." The High Priest added.

"My father has brought this upon me. I have so much rage and longing that sometimes I cannot bear it." Lotor cried, desperate in his confession. It is so hard to maintain discipline. I can be excessive in my actions. I pray to Batak to give me control."

"Batak's love always comes with a price. He is a jealous god. The rage and longing have little to do with Zarkon. It has always been like that with you; no matter where or when." The man took Lotor's hands into his lap and turned them over, carefully examining them. "Batak made you this way on purpose. The rage was so that you could join him in battle and the longing, he had hoped, would be for him. You were to be his perfect companion. He could never deny you anything; not even Keturah. The Dark Lord granted you so much, but you never appreciated anything. You have always been such an arrogant creature." Lotor felt the man's hand on his leg, slowly moving his hand up and down. His eyes were laughing. "Do you know what would happen if I took you to my bed? Batak would go insane. It so fits my nature to do so and yours. I have always been the bigger threat than Keturah was." Lotor groaned. No one warned him that these rituals would go this far. He could live life without a harem. He did not need to go to the Festival of Kitor if this was the price of admission. Lotor went to grab the man's wrist but all he felt was air as the mysterious hand continued to make its way uncomfortably up his leg. Lotor found himself frozen in place unable to move. The High Priest just laughed and pulled away his hand as it just stopped short of his manhood. The man reached over and gave him another kiss; this time it ws no longer innocent. The kiss was full of want and Lotor felt helpless to do anything about it.

"I have kissed Lotor; Lotor is mine." The man's lip curled up into a cruel smile. Lotor was tiring of this strange man, the drug having giving him a headache. He wanted the man to go away. "Relax, I meant nothing. I am not such a fool as to try to take what belongs to Batak. Though I have to say, the way Batak and Keturah fight over you I am tempted to taste the forbidden fruit." Lotor stared at the man. His words made no sense. The Mysteries, whatever they represented, were overrated. He was feeling trapped.

"So, tell me is your war with Batak over? Is it going to be like the ancient days when you loved only him and he dismissed his harem for you? For years you were inseperable until Palla caught his eye and he threw you out of his bed. Oh, wait, that was after you tossed him out for Jera. All the fights, all the discipline...and then both of you kept trying to outdo each other with your conquests until you relented. How did we all survive that drama?" The High Priest looked at Lotor and licked his lips. "Is that why you did not claim Keturah? If so, Batak will be kind in his discipline this time. He has learned his lesson about pushing you too far. I think we all have after what happened last time." The man again reached for Lotor, seductively playing with his hair, twirling them around his fingers. "He needs his sword back and unfortunately it is still attached to you." Lotor felt that unwanted hand again settle down uncomfortably on his groin; it was not still. Lotor did not appreciate his turning their religious myths into a double entendre.

"You talk as if I am Bashir." Lotor said as his body tried to shift away from the unwanted attention. Lotor was positive he was hallucinating. That explained while he could feel the man, but when he tried to grasp the wrist there was nothing but air. This was the best hallucination he ever had. Gavin, though not approving of his drug use, loved to hear about his odder experiences. This was by far the most involved.

"Do you know why they kill the High Priest after he goes into the Holy of Holies?" Lotor shook his head no. "They see the real story and not what is told to children. Batak lied and he was afraid that you would find out that he never killed Keturah. He wanted you to be free from your lotor but you cannot kill a goddess so easily._"_ The man sighed. "The second time around, the priests knew the original story and Batak could not convince you she was dead. You were impossible to deal with. You did not want to make her angry. You did not want to play the game. It almost did not happen. Batak was so angry with you did not let you see her for over a thousand years. I think he suffered more than you did since you refused his affections. Now, Batak always uses the same script. For no reason at all, except for your stubbornness, do they have to die." The man got up and poured wine; offering Lotor a glass. Lotor drank it within minutes, the drug rushing to his head.

"Unfortunately, the original story, so devotedly copied by the Wyverns, is all over the damn Universe. Well, at least we do not have to worry about that anymore. Your bloodlust is thoroughly accessible now. And as usual, you always seem to hurt everyone around you regardless of any other circumstance." Lotor was laughing hard. The man looked annoyed at him.

"What is so funny? His voice seemed to deepen. Lotor tried unsuccessfully to stop; deep down he knew he was dealing with something that was not what it seemed to be. Yet, he found himself out of control.

"It is funny to hear one's self described as Bashir; the fallen angel." Lotor almost fell on the floor because he was laughing so hard. Normally, he had better control over his behavior but he was sure that drugged wine was stronger than he thought.

"Another misconception spread by the priests. Bashir was never an angel; he was never trustworthy. He was all demon from the get go; he was just an incredibly skilled liar that convinced the Council to give him Batak's sword." The man stiffly answered.

"Then why do the priests say otherwise?" Lotor asked.

"...Because the gods believed Bashir's lies. At time, he made us look like idiots. It was one of his favorite pastimes. The worse were the lies he told Keturah. Keturah tried so very hard to forgive him all the time. She tried so hard to love him." The man sighed.

"Keturah did not love Bashir." Lotor stated firmly. Lotor did not want to dream this man anymore. "She hated him." He did not know why, but he always hated this part of the story.

"Most of the time; but sometimes he pleased her. She is a goddess of some passion and would succumb to his charm and lies; just like the rest of us. He occasionally showed mercy to those he conquered. She always showed him pity when he did that." The man spoke softly as if to reassure Lotor. "Remember that this time. Maybe she won't throw you out with the trash."

"Who needs pity? It is a horrible thing. I would resent a wife who did that." Lotor grumbled.

"You need her pity or she will not redeem you. Batak, for some reason, has become desperate for his sword again. It took powerful magic to bring you back which has had serious consequences. Of course, Keturah blamed herself for everything. She always does. To be fair, she never thought he would go that far to bring you back. None of us did." The man's face seemed to transform in front of him; it was now washed in sorrow as if he had suffered a terrible loss. "They were our children after all."

"What happens if I refuse to play your game? It sounds like I lost last time." Lotor tensed up. All of a sudden the dream like state of this hallucination seemed to become very real.

"You lose every time. I always win." The man looked at Lotor; his voice was no longer sweet but had taken on a commanding tone. "You have no choice; you are just an object that Batak created for his enjoyment. Your ego keeps forgetting that you are no more than a glorified pleasure slave. You were supposed to be his recreation, not his competition. I can assure you that the Court did not miss your antics." The man gave Lotor a smug look. "I no longer want to play this game. I was content to let you rot for eternity."

"Batak obviously missed me." Lotor replied. His smirk was in full bloom. He could not believe he was even engaging his hallucination in a conversation. But then again, he was used to the persons in his dreams talking to him.

"Batak is bored again and wants to play with his favorite toy." The man shrugged. "You are pretty to look at and none of us ever know how Keturah will play the last card. That is what makes it so exciting." The man's hazel colored eyes darkened. "She regretted her decision last time. Batak was furious. He ws not ready to put you away yet. It took forever and a day to find her again." He paused. "The Great King took her memory this time." The man looked at Lotor who was shaking his head. "As for you, play smarter this time. Keturah is always such a distraction for you. Batak can deal with your lust for her because in the end you always go crawling back to him. You are as bad as he is at times; desperate for your hunting partner." The man stroked his cheek. "If neither of them can keep you satisfied, perhaps it is time for a change. With me, you never have to keep your appetite in check or learn to be content with what you have. I do not harbor such silly jealousies. The possibilities are endless." The man smiled and ran his fingers down Lotor's arm. "Perhaps it is time that you tasted another wine."

Lotor returned the smile; but unlike the priest there was malice in his. He gently pushed back the Priest's hair. The man was beyond beautiful but Lotor's inhibitions outweighed his curiosity; his year in the Supremacy had left him with a high tolerance for the drugs that laced the wine. "Retire your lust."

"You, the man who spends his every morning and evening in devotions, would refuse recreation to a High Priest who is also a god. I would think it would be your fantasy." The man fell back unto the couch and laughed. "What kind of Drule are you? Has your human blood so tainted you that it has excised the Evil Impulse? When does a Drule not want to worship an object of beauty? Offer your submission to me; I will be gentle with you. Batak owes me at least this for finding you."

"I have never offered submission to anyone." Lotor bristled.

"Again you lie. You gave it to Borak." Lotor's mouth flew open. Only Borak and Driedal knew of this. They swore never to tell a soul. "You gave it to a mere mortal but not Batak. There is something comical to that. It has been centuries since something amused me as much as that did. Batak was seething. It took him a long time to figure out a just punishment for your betrayal. Ravok and Utor delivered his discipline." The man stroked Lotor's cheek. "Bashir, you will submit to me before this is over. It will make Batak lose control."

"And who, may I ask, longs for my submission?" Lotor asked. He had talked to this hallucination enough to ask for a name.

"Are you lying again? Or do you really not remember who you are or who I am? We have played this game for thousands of years." The man looked into Lotor's eyes and shook his head. "Batak's magic was not perfect, was it? I think he left a part of you behind. That is why you did not recognize Keturah. You, a mere demon, have humiliated a goddess. How you do amuse me of late with your blasphemy." He sat up straight and placed his hands in his lap; the man was hungry for attention. "First I shall name you – Bashir, Telora, Magro, Jain and now, now you are Lotor. There were others." The man took Lotor's face into his hands. "You have never liked me. You keep trying to use Batak's sword to keep me at bay. You think that's the answer but you will always lose. I will still be here when everything else is gone, even Batak. Someone always has to be last." He grabbed Lotor's hair and pulled him close. "Can you name me? Can you name the thing you fear the most, what you can never conquer though you try so hard." The man leaned over and kissed his forehead.

"Lord Tavor. You are Lord Tavor." Lotor felt the tears fall.

"You were always such a clever thing. How long can your sword hold me off this time? A hundred years, a thousand. The sad thing is that Batak puts you to sleep before you find out. Your existence relies solely on his desire for you. For the last thousand years he took another lover, and only when he tired of her, did he look for your box and start to plan your next body." He looked Lotor up and down. "As always, he did a good job. The human was a nice touch to smooth out the rough edges. I will have to remember that one." The High Priest sighed. "Eventually, this body that contains you will die and whatever you have built in that small amount of time that Batak took you out to play is all that will keep me contained." The man stopped and brushed away the tears. There was gentleness in his touch that surprised Lotor. 'We have not always treated you well."

"One day, Batak will even get bored with this game and he will forget about his favorite toy. I sometimes even wonder if you are alive in there." He stroked Lotor's hair. "_Shoshi, _how does Batak serve you? Keturah will never understand that he designed you to fear and abhor me. She does not understand your need to contain me. She is always thinks that she can save you; but you always disappoint her in the end." He shook his head. "Last time, she abandoned you all together. Submit and I can make that feeling of fear go away. Submit and I will give you Keturah or take away the desire for her; whatever you prefer. She will love you if you forget the sword. Without his sword, I can keep Batak far away from the both of you. You could make this life a happy one. You have ruled this all before, but it never made you happy. In the end, you are still his slave."

"And if I agree." Lotor said.

"You will be mine. You are an object of cursed beauty, even I cannot change what Batak created." Lotor shook his head no.

"You were always such a difficult child." Lotor closed his eyes. He felt something gently tugging his shoulder.

"My Lord, wake up." The soft, but firm hands of the High Priestess awoke him on a marble table. He was in a room, surrounded by vapors, but there was no spring to be found. He was on the table that he had seen in the water. She had been the woman in the dream; but she was dressed in the solid black gown befitting her station. Lotor moaned and rolled over, pulling the robe on. His head was splitting and he still had the festival tonight.

"The High Priest will see you. Today you will be consecrated to Batak. Your heart must be soaring with joy." The beautiful young woman smiled as she handed him a black robe. I think we met once before; during a New Year's Festival. Your father brought you to the Temple, you were about seven and I was five. You played with me in the gardens. Do you remember?" Lotor slowly nodded. He did not remember the girl; just the garden full of his mother's roses.

"My Prince, you must be very much in love" The woman was brushing his hair. "You said the wildest things while you were under the wine's spell." Lotor sat up.

"I have no one." Lotor shook his head.

"Do not jest. You pronounced the marriage vows so many times. _I have kissed Allura; Allura is mine._ And then, it was so cute, you even did her part. You said _I kissed Lotor; and Lotor is mine._"

"Allura died a long time ago." He angrily grabbed the robe and stormed into the room that contained the final ceremonies for the initiates. The High Priest anointed his head and said the blessings over him. It was not the man in his dreams. His High Priest was godlike in his beauty. This man, though attractive, paled in comparison. No one could be that terrifyingly beautiful. Lotor shook his head. Today, he thought, as he refused the last glass of wine offered, he must have found the bottom of his proverbial barrel. He was sticking to wine from now on, free of anything else. It would put a damper on the Festival tonight but he had enough visions for awhile.


	10. Chapter 10

I apologize for this super, super long chapter. Thanks to everyone who has been subscribing and encouraging me to keep writing this.

The Festival of Kitor

It was late afternoon when Lotor finally woke. He was exhausted from the morning's consecration ceremonies which still left his with an uneasy feeling. The hallucinations had bothered him so much that he foolishly threw away the cornucopia of pills he had stashed in his bags. He thought he was strong enough to break free of their hold. For months, he had told himself, he did not have a problem. He truly believed his consumption was well within normal limits; the demands on the _Kiros _were hard. In order to be promoted, he had to fulfill certain requirements as diverse as overseeing an engineering crew balance the flux in the engines to picking up a crew member who had been detained by the local authorities while on leave. There were never enough hours in the day; so he turned to the pills to give him the extra push he needed to complete his tasks. Then, after he was attacked by Ravok and Utor, he had trouble keeping focus. He was anxious and the ship's doctor gave him pills for that. In the beginning, it was under control, but during the campaign for Taran the use began to escalate.

Lotor pulled out the bag full of pills shoved deep inside a pair of running shoes and slumped into a chair. He looked at those pills and a nightmare vision of his own execution came to mind. Drug addiction was punishable by death; especially if it had endangered the ship or another member of the crew. He feared that if these hallucinations continued then he too might face these charges and the punishment that accompanied them. He would not be too surprised if the Imperials would take advantage of an opportunity to rid themselves of the Korrinoth heir. When he was at the Academy, he assumed that the other crown princes that refused to serve the Imperial Forces were cowards; now he knew that they were just more intelligent than he was. Why his father had insisted on him ever leaving Korrinoth was beyond him. Lotor looked at the pills and convinced himself that he would do without. He knew his body would protest; but he had reasoned that he had been through worse before.

Lotor made his way to his bathroom and flushed the pills down the toilet. The contents of his stomach were soon to follow as he heaved up what little was in there. He then broke out into a cold sweat. Exhausted, he lay on tiled floor hoping that the cool would ease his pained stomach and throbbing head. Finally, he brought himself up and looked in the mirror and let out a small huff. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin had a washed out look to it. It was his fault. He had consumed too many pills that morning and overdone it on the wine in the Temple. He had no time to sleep it off. He threw himself into the shower and got dressed; not in the uniform of the Supremacy's officers but in that of a Korronite warmaster. In truth, he looked at the close fitting blue pants and the tunic and cringed as he put them on. Over it, the leather top piece which was fringed with white leather; each tag representing an oath taken to the King. The leather skirt was of no concern; he had worn those since he was a boy as did the belt adorned with the House of Daibaza'al signature skull. All his father's vassals wore the skulls to show their homage to their lord.

He had one thing to do before the festivities. He went back to the greenhouse where in the corner was the transplanted rosebush. He had cut a few buds and slipped into the banquet hall placing them in a small decorative vase in front of the King's seat. The servants, noting that the Prince had placed them, left them undisturbed. For a moment, Lotor stopped and looked at the all too familiar banquet room. He closed his eyes and remembered the last Festival of Kitor it had been decorated before. He had slipped away from his nanny, curious for the noise. He was young and was shocked at what he was seeing. All of a sudden the room became quiet and everyone was staring at him. His mother approached him in a red dress. He had never seen her dressed like that. She looked more like a harem girl than a queen. She handed him a rose and told him to follow her; Zarkon demanding she stay. He was worried as they walked away and he told her to go back. Lotor had overhead them fighting earlier that day; Althea saying hurtful things to his father.

Lotor was not feeling exceptionally ill; stopping often as he made his way to his father's main reception hall. His father's warmasters were already gathering. He took a seat in the back; trying to keep his eyes closed; when he opened them the sick feeling intensified and the room was spinning. It was even an effort to rise when his father entered. He, along with the rest of the Court, fell unto their knees; humble before the Great King.

One by one, Zarkon called up his warmasters in order of their seniority. Their service was rewarded with lazon and properties. The fleets under some were expanded in order to help their conquests. Slaves were generously granted, necessary to replace the ones no longer needed or wanted. They were brought for fun to the Arena. Zarkon called up the newly minted warmasters, only that morning consecrated by Batak, and granted them their first holdings. He smiled and told them that these homes would only grow in size and wealth if they did good service to their king. The men pledged their loyalty to their king; and he to them and their kin. One by one, they were declared friends of the King. Finally, he called up Lotor to join him on the dais.

Lotor, with his head down and his arm in salute, made his way up the seemingly endless staircase, His father had a wide smile on his face; his eyes were eager with excitement. He looked at Lotor, and for a minute the Prince saw a flash of concern in his eyes, he sensing there was something not quite right. Lotor could barely focus on the words as Zarkon professed his joy for his son's accomplishments. He recounted the doubt his Court had that a hybrid could carry on his father's mantle; berating them for their lack of faith. He pointed to the newly installed throne that was adjacent to his; happy that his son would also represent the might of Korrinoth. Lotor would not only be feared as a warmaster but also as the Crown Prince of Doom; what all others generally called their planet. Let the offworlders insult their world with this appellation; they would embrace it. With his son and his warmasters at his side; Doom would take on a new meaning.

Zarkon continued on about his vision for the Ninth Kingdom; talks of alliances were meshed in with the promise of new technologies that would revolutionize their military forces. Finally, he announced that he was granting Lotor his own residence, the new fortress that ha recently been erected in the capitol city of Sorrinoth. The King hinted that there was plenty of room for any women he would acquire tonight bringing forth laughter from the crowd. Lotor silently groaned at the thought of the Arena that evening; he was in no shape to fight anyone as he could barely keep himself from doing a dry heave on the dais. Zarkon, annoyed at Lotor's lack of enthusiasm, gave him a harsh look.

Lotor finished by pledging his sword to Zarkon. Unlike the other men, his fealty was not considered a true submission to his father's royal authority. His royal birth, blessed by the gods as much as his father's ascension to the throne was, entitled him to challenge anyImperial King or Prince to their throne, even the Emperor. Korrinoth, unlike most other kingdoms, did not keep a champion to fight their ruler's challengers; their tradition required the ruler defend his own throne. Survival of the fittest, from the lowliest microbe to the royal throne, was the true law of Korrinoth. Of course, even if you defeated a ruler you still needed his warmasters and his Court to back you –there laid another problem. Most of the Court officials were not sworn to the King, but the throne. The only thing that made them comply with their King's orders was the fear that a warmaster's blade would be run through their heart. One could never challenge a standing king unless one had the supporters to back you. Several Korrinoth kings had died from old age in their bed.

The ceremonies were over. Zarkon called for his warmasters to join him in the banquet hall. He turned to Lotor and smiled. He asked him if his gift pleased him. Lotor gave his thanks, calling him a generous father. The king seemed pleased as he bounded down the stairs not giving a second look to see if his son followed.

Zarkon had been looking straight ahead when he sat down at the banquet table; proudly overlooking several tables seating his senior warmasters. He enjoyed the mood of his men; some accompanied by scantily clad females. Anticipation was in the air as the food came out and the wine was poured. The feast traditionally preceded the more sordid entertainment to follow. Moments passed and he wondered where Lotor was; the boy seemed not himself on the dials earlier. His keen eyes scanned the room for the boy but came up empty. He sighed and inhaled deeply catching a familiar scent of a fragrant flower. For a moment, in elation, he forgot where he was and excitedly looked around as if he expected someone to walk through the door. He groaned to himself; it was a foolish feeling to be overcome by. Althea was dead; killed by his own hand.

He looked around to see where the scent emanated from; shocked to find the roses in front of him. Zarkon wondered who would have the audacity to remind him of such a thing; especially here of all places. He could not even imagine how the flower had been acquired; few knew of its true origin. The greenhouse, were they were traditionally grown, had been in disrepair for many years. It stood only because Haggar had expressed some interest in using it for an herb garden.

He picked up one of the buds, gently putting it to his nose in hopes of dismissing the notion that this was Althea's. He could not. It was the scent he always associated with her. It had been on her skin, in her hair, and he thought, in her bed sheets. He looked over the room and sighed. Truthfully, he no longer cared to attend this particular festival. Even in his prime, Zarkon had detested it. Year after year, he had increased his harem with this custom but Batak was not kind. He was not blessed with any children. It was only when he approached his old age did Batak grant him this wish. He laughed to himself; an impotent king now presided over a fertility rite. The loss of desire being the price he had paid for the taking of Althea's life.

The Festival of Kitor was the first thing and the last that they ever fought about. He closed his eyes and put the rose to his lips as he remembered the first day he laid eyes on Althea Carris. He remembered his men dragging in the helpless girl; who fought like a wild beast. His men, who had been ordered not to harm her, were filled with claw and bite marks as she occasionally broke free enough to strike. When she stopped her struggle, somehow, though a disheartening mess, she still maintained some dignity. Her eyes flashing with stubborn pride; and though he did not know what the words meant; he noted her arrogant tone when she refused his advances. He still remembered when he first saw her and the words of _lotor_ escaped his lips. He was filled with such lust for her that it made his heart ache. He wanted to worship her body and posses her soul. He wanted to tie her to him and make them truly one. He approached her and took in her scent. It was sweet and clean; seemingly to suit her. She would not have him until he killed one of her crewmates and threatened another's life. He took her, and when he finished, he looked into her cold eyes and found he was unable to meet her stare.

At first, he kept her in his harem. Things did not go well there. The other women were jealous when they heard of what happened in court. His current favorite, hearing he had uttered that particular word, was especially cruel to her. Garroth, the harem master, had tried to keep her away from the others but at times their paths crossed and the human had the marks to prove it.

Althea, though grieving her situation, was also desperate to survive this ordeal. She had been raised to be shrewd; to exploit the weakness of her competition. This was the way of the Carris clan. He called her often enough, his lust for his new pet was still new. With sweet words and loving touches she complained of her treatment by the woman as she bore the weight of his body. Partially as a punishment to his favorite one, a name he could no longer even remember, he moved Althea up to his private chambers. He smiled remembering it had been at her suggestion and not his. Zarkon had foolishly thought he had won some small victory over this arrogant creature. He was even amused by her attempts to manipulate him. He found himself actually excited that a woman of a harem would dare to even suggest such a thing to a warmaster. The generally tended to live in their own separate quarters, even after taking a wife. Her brazenness, like all things about her, intrigued him. It was only meant to be temporary; he had truly hoped he had not fallen under her spell. He refused to believe that he could succumb to a _lotor. _He had hoped that he would eventually bore of her. Instead, he became more fascinated by the temperamental; there was no other way to describe her, woman who had taken over his rooms.

It was not long before he smelled the estrogen on her skin, not even a week. He took her. She somehow knowing his intent was different; struggled under him trying to break free. The first time they tied she had clawed at his skin. He still bore one small scar on his shoulder to remember their first mating. The woman had somehow clawed deep enough to leave a mark, a rare thing since Drules barely scarred at all. He still looked at it with fondness. She could be a wildcat at times. He still remembered her pleas to get off of her which were just answered by more grunts and thrusts into her womb. And then, there was the first taste of her blood. It was not like a Drule's blood; it did nothing to excite his final release, but there was still pleasure to be had from the act. Doing that to her, knowing how much she had fought him, had its own eroticism. She had a long, lovely neck which he would eventually have necklaces made to show off its lines. How many times had he laid awake thinking of what it had felt like to run his tongue along its taunt skin. He remembered his hands running through her hair, pulling her head gently to its side, to expose as much skin as possible for his tongue to explore. The fragrance of the perfume was strong on her pulse points; the heat of her skin mixing with the alcohol in her perfumes; releasing its scented oils. All this was added to her own unique, sweet scent.

Years later, he learned to keep his teeth at bay only ripping into her flesh when his passion, not checked by discipline, demanded it. Looking back, there were many of those nights. This brought a smile to his lips; her blood was more enticing than any Drules he had ever tasted. Zarkon was surprised at the arousal he was now feeling just thinking about her hands, her lips, her breasts as he looked over at the women dancing before him. It had been many years since he had felt anything at all.

The banquet was in full swing; the hall loud with the sounds of men, their women and music. The wines being passed around were from Tyrus, laced with aphrodisiacs. He laughed at the obvious arousal of his guest and the slaves that were ushered in, for many of the woman it would be the last time they experienced these expensive beverages. It would be the only time they would ever enjoy having sex with their masters. Tonight all the men would watch these captives, their bodies on fire, accept their affections with abandon. The next morning these same women would probably weep with the memories of what they allowed or even initiated under the wines' influence.

Zarkon watched as the tables were cleared away and couches and tables were brought in. These surrounded a small area put aside for the men to, in good cheer, fight with each other. It was a friendly competition, there were plenty women for all. The more important gathering had occurred earlier where he had shared his wealth with his warmasters. Some, having wives, began to depart at this point. They were not allowed to partake in this and even risk sullying their marriage vows. Occasionally, a particular woman could cause an upset, and even a death or two, but these things rarely happened. The night had been designed for entertainment; not tragedy. Zarkon still had not seen Lotor and he was getting concerned. He had been very careful in his selection this year; specifically having the harem master choose women of his son's physical preferences so that he would compete harder and amaze the other warmasters with his ability to fight. Instead, he was no where to be found. He looked down at the rose in his hand and crumpled it within his fist; not quite ready to let it and the taste of Althea it brought go.

Althea's womb, to the shock of the Court doctors, took to his seed. She was soon pregnant and at first Zarkon had feared it was her lover's child because it happened so quickly. He had seen her reaction to the man in the hall. He had brought his sword up to kill the human and her response had been immediate. She had done nothing to save her other shipmate; the fear or disgust of being with him had overrode the desire to save that life. Or she could have been in shock that the Demon King wanted to bed her, most humans were fearful of having sex with A Drule. He never knew which it had been, revulsion or fear, but she stood by and watched him well knowing that her refusal had caused his death. Althea was one of those rare people, that at time, he found to be unreadable; such were her defenses. Lotor, he mused, was developing that skill. As the boy aged, he saw more and more of her emerging. This man that she cared for did not survive long; he made sure he was sent to the most dangerous mines. In the end; the child was his, but it was not the son he has longed for.

Zarkon, upon hearing of the pregnancy, never returned her to the harems. Instead, he gave up one of his larger rooms and had it converted into her personal suite. It was a strange time for him; he dare not touch her fearful that this pregnancy would end in failure like the others. It was not that he had been intent on the child, it was only another female to be dealt with, but he was curious if she could sustain the life within her. The women in his harem, and the witch, had brought forth dead, deformed issue. He felt cursed by Batak himself; and he wondered if his dreams of an heir were only an illusion. Even the daughters promised by the witch had never emerged and soon even she stopped talking about it saying that Batak had other plans for the both of them. Zarkon slept with Althea most nights; still wanting to be close. He often wondered what she felt; knowing that the man that had stolen away everything from her had fathered the child she carried. He sometimes would look at her face and touch her belly; and occasionally she would voice her fear that she harbored a monster. He still spent many days relieving his lust on his harem; but he no longer lingered there. He preferred her icy company. She had a sharp tongue and a delightful wit when it suited her. Her words were filled with black humor; her coping mechanism to survive.

He knew the exact moment his lust for her turned to love. One day, she was standing on the balcony overlooking the black seas that were west of the fortress. There was a lightening storm; and her face was lit up by fearsome strikes. She had a strange smile on her face. Her eyes were wide and shining. She would tense as she waited for the thunder to follow; almost breathless in anticipation. He walked over and gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"It is the first thing that has pleased you." He whispered.

"They are so beautiful. All that power surging in those bolts." She took in a deep breath and exhaled. He was jealous as he watched her chest rise up to met her breaths; knowing that their increase was for unborn child. He felt no desire to share her; not with anyone. "Enough to lit up a sky as dark as Korrinoth's." Althea murmured. His hands slid on her belly; he could feel his child kick. He smelled her hair and sighed.

"I was told my mother was a great beauty; like you. I think our daughter will take after the women in my family." She turned around and faced him.

"Let me go back to Arus. I will leave you the child." Tears were in her eyes.

"A child needs her mother. It is the woman's job to raise it." He answered; hiding his upset that she would even think of abandoning him; even if it met giving up her child. He caught himself; what else did he expect. She was not like most women he knew; there was selfishness intrinsic to her very being. Why did he expect anything more than her resentment about her condition? He tried to think of something to please her. She had not asked for anything since she had been installed in his chambers.

"There is a city on Korrinoth called Gershon. This storm pales to the ones that come there in the summer. I will take you there after the child comes. I need a vacation away from this place." He said softly.

"I am sure it will be beautiful." She said and turned her face to him. She touched his cheek; a rare gesture. He closed his eyes; lingering in the ecstasy of such a small touch. She watched his face and smiled; he knowing that at that moment he had given himself away. She leaned in and kissed him. He wished it was more than a calculated move; but everything that woman ever did had a purpose even when he, or sometimes even she, did not understand her motives.

"Althea Carris, will you marry me? I will make you Queen of the Universe. My sword will be yours to command." He whispered. "All you desire will be yours."

"Is it important to you?" She softly said.

"Yes, I would not have asked you if I thought otherwise. You are about to bear my only child. She may be Queen of Doom one day. I do not want my nobles to challenge her rights. Until I take you as a wife; they will continue to offer their own daughters to me. It will make the politics in my court very difficult." His voice was rough with passion when she slid her hands around his waist and caressed his buttocks. It had been so long since he had her and he ached at the memory. To his surprise; she pulled his head down and kissed him again. Her tongue slide across his lips; she pressed hard into his; forcing him to part his lips. She continued her assault; he rejoicing in her every movement. For the first time, she was the aggressor. Perhaps, she finally realized that he could be good for her. His heart raced for joy thinking that she had finally come to accept his affections. Her hands were deft and he soon found her massaging his aroused manhood. He was lost in pleasure.

"If you want it so, why have you not forced me to be your bride? You were not shy in anything else you wanted." She whispered.

"Marriage is a holy thing. An oath to the gods cannot be forced by another. So holy is the marriage oath, which once given requires the taker to forsake all others. I will have to dismiss my harem. That is how much your affections means to me, Althea Carris." Her kisses continued and he moaned in pleasure. His hands gently felt her belly, brushing against her breasts, wondering if taking her so far along in the pregnancy could really cause any harm. He, in a moment of discipline, pulled back. She smiled; and stepped forward as if she was the predator; and not him. She pulled him close to her.

"You seem to want this very much." Her voice, husky in his ear, raw with what he believed to be passion, filled his head. His erection was pressed against her and he thought he might come right there such was his desire for her.

"More than anything I have ever desired. I will make you the happiest woman in the galaxy. Your every wish will be my command." He answered back.

"You took away everything I ever wanted." She said as she forced him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were like ice and a cruel smile crossed her lips. "I will keep the only freedom I still have; and that is to refuse you this small thing. I do not care if you strike me down for my rejection; it would be easier for I do not have the strength to take my own life. I will never be your wife. You can make me share your bed, eat with you, suffer your touch, and even use my body to give you the heirs you seem so desperate for. But you will never make me yours. I am a Carris, born from an ancient and noble family. My father tried to make me marry a man and I fled. To this day I do not regret it even though I have fallen to such a low state. I will not be told who to love." He cheeks were flushed and her nostrils were flaring as she pronounced these words. It was a challenge; the first direct one she had thrown at him. She was beautiful in her anger; terrifying as Korrinoth's storms. In that very moment, his lust had turned to love. He pulled her even closer.

"One day you will agree to be mine." He said as he stoked a talon down her back.

"I will die first." She spat back.

"That will be your choice." He said. He released her and made his way down to his harem. He had few humans to choose from; save for her; he had no strong desire for the weak creatures. He had two blondes brought forth. Their bodies were lovely; but their eyes did not rage like hers did. He ordered them to the bed that was in the back of the harem and told them to bend over. He did not want to see their faces; just their hair. He took one and then the other. They screamed and cried out for there was no preparation for him. He was purposively brutal, pulling their hair and clawing their backs. Every lunge, every bite, every scrape was a testament to his frustration at her refusal. His rage filled the woman as much as his seed did. Like dolls, he threw them down on the bed and left them broken and crying. He had only had them once before, they were his prizes at the Festival of Kitor, an afterthought in that frenzied night. He had taken them only because someone else, another warmaster that he was angry with, wanted them. Now, they became his favorites. For every blow he wanted to place on Althea, for every time she refused to scream out underneath him; for every icy glance or cold word she gave to him they were there to bear the brunt of his fury. He never laid a hand on her in that manner; knowing he would lose discipline and perhaps mar his _lotor._

During the next couple of years, his harem was replaced by blond human females. Eventually, they too would be dismissed as Althea's power over him grew. Occasionally, he would push back by taking a slave or a whore to his bed, but in the end he was driven back to Althea. The task of finding human females was a difficult one for any harem master; their exotic looks were much desired by many a warmaster. Zarkon, like all the others, had to fight for them at the Festival of Kitor to claim them as his own. Rarely did his men challenge him for one; but sometimes a particularly fetching one would cause a stir. Sometimes Zarkon relented; he was a generous man. Other times, it came to blows. And once, he killed a man who would not back down. This went on for five years until he came up with another plan to win her hand in marriage. He had tired of these women and wanted only her. Though any other Drule would argue they looked like Althea, he could never see the resemblance save for the hair.

Zarkon no longer went down to his harem for pleasure, since he could only find that in her bed – but to punish her. Even though he told her what he did to the women; she did not budge. Finally, thinking she did not believe his words, he forced her to come with him to watch their humiliations. Althea took it as another challenge. She even would sometimes run a commentary; giving suggestions as to how he should abuse them or what position he should take on in. The slaves, along with the Court, shared this amongst themselves. Zarkon was amazed at her tenacity; thinking just out of mercy she would free these women from his tortures. Instead she would just fix their eyes on the scene; giving her icy stare to both him and them. It was not the Court that named her the Ice Queen; but his slaves. They too hated her, though she was technically one of them. The problem was that no matter how many times she called herself that, everyone knew that it was Zarkon who had become totally enslaved. It was many years before she used her influence to ease their suffering; and that, along with everything else that Althea did, was on a whim.

Zarkon had heard that humans could be as cold as any Drule; even more savage but he did not believe it until he met Althea Carris. He cursed himself for falling in love with such a human; for she did not limit her nature just to him. She let him torture these women. She would say it was he, and not her, that brought their pain about; and therefore, she felt no compelling urge to interfere though the women begged her to relent. Just like the crewmate that she allowed Zarkon to kill; her arrogance sealed their fate. When he asked her how she could be so heartless; she responded that she felt no guilt. The sin was not hers to bear; she was only its witness. Finally, even the women failed to serve their purpose. Abusing them did not lift his rage or frustration and, though he cared not for the females; like everything they were just another possession; he rarely did anything without a purpose. They did not serve him and he resolved to rid himself of them. Other warmasters would gladly accept his gifts as there were no children attached to his women. On the birth of his son; he dismissed them totally. If Althea would not marry him; well, he thought, she could not stop him from marrying her. At least, he could make her his Queen in his mind.

Zarkon watched impassively as the men moved closer to the area set aside. He got up and moved to his seat; high above the scene. He had not participated in years; and his men preferred it that way. Zarkon had always been a bit greedy; taking the women and then parceling them out as gifts later. His warmasters were reminded that, even though he was getting on in years, he still possessed the brutal strength and cunning that brought him the throne. He looked around the room; concern now replacing his annoyance with Lotor's absence. This was something any warmaster would look forward to; not shy away from. His mind turned back to Lotor's birthday party where he had refused to take a woman to bed. Perhaps, his father thought, he was not interested in them but the servants told him otherwise. He had taken several of the servant girls to his bed; he was not excessive but he was no saint either.

The evening storms of Korrinoth had begun to rage; the lightening adding to the dim glow of lamps. A large group of dancing girls had been brought in to flame the lusts of the men. Some, he was sure, would not even make it to the main event before they took some of the more comely servants. This was Kitor, the night that Batak commands his warmasters to forgo discipline and to unleash the Evil Impulse. When Zarkon was younger he thought it was his solemn duty to comply; he had been as devout as Lotor – maybe even more so. Now, he realized that is was no more than an institutionalized orgy. At least, that is what Althea called it.

He still clutched the rose as he looked outside the large windows. The lightening and the fragrances combined in his mind; triggering off a memory of her lying in his arms, in Gershon. He had brought her there to give her a break from the baby. She was playing the devoted mother role well; but he could see it did not suit her. Still, she was uneasy about being away and he was trying to get her forget about the infant and to refocus her attentions on him. She had given birth three months ago, and he had not been alone with her. He had first thought to just take her but he had decided to try to woo her instead. He took her to Gershon. She met him with her cold stare; sizing up the situation. She turned away from him.

"Did you think I would wait much longer?" He said as he stroked her hair. "I have been patient for so long. I have not touched you in a year."

"You have plenty of women to attend to your lusts. Why so much affection for me? I have heard you are a generous king; you might share more of your affections with them and less with me. They hate me enough; you should not make me look so greedy." She said as he pressed his erection into her.

"Do you want to give up your position as my favorite? I could choose another. I can arrange for you and Leanarra to be sent back into the harem?" She turned to face him.

"As if you would. You have been sniffing around my door since she was born; harassing the doctors to find out when you could honor me with your _affections_." Zarkon smiled. Althea was the only women he had ever met that showed him no fear. Even the witch would flinch when his temper arose.

"You speak the truth. I am desperate to make love to you." His hand started to caress her body. She moved away. He pulled her close.

"Drules do not make love; they rut like animals." She hissed.

"We are just enthusiastic." He chuckled. "Our women like it."

"Then _fuck _one of them." He rolled her back to face him. Her body had become even more womanly after the pregnancy; her hips filling out. Her rear was now more rounded and he already was thinking of his hands digging into it. He had already decided that he would take her from behind several times before this trip was over; he was getting harder thinking of how deep she could take him before she cried out. She was right; he should take his time when he _fucked _her. He was always so excited when he entered her that he tended to rush to orgasm; he needed to work on his discipline. Perhaps, she would scream out to him to be quicker, even just to make it over. He so wanted to hear to react under him.

"I will decide who I take to my bed; not you." He answered back.

"What will it take for you tot make this enjoyable for me?" He whispered. "There must be something you want?"

"My freedom." She answered; a delicious smirk on her face. Althea was taunting him.

"The repetition of that request bores me. Something more reasonable." His fingers twirled around her golden strands.

'I heard that you are going to Gorlos next month, please take me. I have always wanted to go the Western Territories." She stroked his cheek and turned his face toward her.

"Gorlos is a world made for sin, chaos rules its shores. A lady such as you should not see such a place." He grabbed her fingers and bit lightly on their ends. She was considering her next move carefully. He enjoyed the fact that all of her attention was on him.

"I am no lady, I am a slave. I hear there is a dressmaker that could make a mere mortal look as beautiful as Keturah. I want her to make me a wardrobe fit for a goddess." She mused.

"You are no Keturah. You are more like Jera, Lord Tavor's woman." He said, laughing to himself.

"Who was this Jera? I have not heard of her." She said, curious of the comparison.

"Jera is the goddess of passion. She lusted after Bashir and stole him from Batak's bed; He promised her that he would protect her from Lord Tavor's wrath. But in the end, Bashir abandoned her for Batak, taking his sword with him. It is a morality tale about the destructive power of the Evil Impulse"

"What happened to Jera after Bashir abandoned her?" Althea asked.

"Lord Tavor killed her." Zarkon said with a smile.

"That is horrible. All of these stories end up with someone dead." Althea looked at him. "Your religion is as savage as your people."

"They are dark gods, my love." He said. "Why do you want more dresses, you have closets full of them. I am the only one you see. "

"Exactly. I have been shut up in your chambers for over a year. This does not suit me at all. I plan to attend Court. I want to dazzle your humble servants." A look of bemusement crossed Zarkon's face.

"Really. Did I say I want you there? Have you forgotten that you serve me?" Althea smiled as her hand sunk into the sheets, massaging his groin. It was the first time she had ever touched him in bed like that and he sucked in his breath.

"It is a little thing I ask." Zarkon almost laughed as she said the Drule phrase usually meaning something entirely else.

"If I say yes, will you beg my bed?" He reached over and started to nibble at her neck.

"For tonight only. You will have to negotiate for tomorrow." She said, moving her hand away. She made sure it was only a taste to tempt him.

"Tonight is a trip to Gorlos. Tomorrow, I will grant the dressmaker. And the day after, you may come to Court. It may please me to have you there. You have gone from a slave to a whore." He murmured into her hair as his hands slid down her legs; she parted them willingly.

"No, I was raised to be a trader. I have just traded the only thing I have that interests you. But it is only a temporary thing; do not read any more into it than it is." She said as she planted a kiss on his neck.

"I have slept with better bodies, more beautiful women." He said; trying to negate what power she thought she had over him.

"I wasn't talking about my body; it has always been yours to claim. And as for the other, that it is said is in the eyes of the beholder. You are discussing things that are not even up for negotiating. That is not what you want. You want my desire, my lust." She sat up, tucking her legs under her. Her ice eyes were warm.

"You lust for me. That I would never believe." He huffed back; his breath getting shorter.

"I lust for the things that the Great King can give me. You can easily pretend it is lust for you. You can lie to yourself that it is out of want that I will do the things you ask of me." She leaned over and softly said in his ear. "You would like me to pleasure you willingly."

"As long as I am careful, I see no harm. It is dangerous when a Drule believes his own lies." He grabbed her and pulled her up onto his body, tracing his hand across her breasts. She did not flinch. Her eyes were still on fire; he could hear the thunder crashing around them. She leaned over and kissed him.

"Anything I want?" He said as he massaged her thighs.

"As long as you do not send me to the hospital." She laughed. It was only the first of such bargains. She always delivered the goods without complaint. Her lust, as she promised, was a temporary thing that she could turn on and off at will. The nights, that would bring him to the very heights of ecstasy, were followed by mornings where she let her revulsion for him known. The remarks that barely stung before, now felt like daggers. He hardly believed that the passion they had shared was a false testament on her part. Sex with Althea, would become an addiction, and she made him pay a high cost to get his fix. That night he learned the difference between his taking her body; and her taking his. It was a lesson best left unlearned.

The next request was not so simple. She wanted a greenhouse with a type of flower found only on Arus. It amused her that it was named after her. She proudly told him that her father had it commissioned especially for her; a particularly fragrant hybrid. He sent a diplomatic mission to Arus in order to open up trade. Their young king, eager for lazon, offered up many things in exchange. The Drules considered the list, rejecting some of the things, and adding one. They wanted the roses known as the _Althea_ grown on the Carris estate. It was non-negotiable. Carris charged his King a fortune for the bushes that made their way to Doom. Korrinoth had not let a flower take root in 1,200 years. The planet, like its sovereign ruler, relented to Althea Carris's request. He built her a greenhouse and showed it to her. For once, he found her lurking in his bedroom. He was overcome with ecstasy. Not because she gave herself willingly, but because he had truly pleased her. Occasionally, she could be kind.

Zarkon looked at the rose; his heart full of regret for what he had agreed to that evening. He knew that was the night when Zarkon of Korrinoth, born of the House Daibaza'al, known to history as the Demon King, sold his soul to an Arusian trader. He had never met a Carris before; any Terran could have told him to be wary of dealing with them as they always took more than their fair share.

He looked below. The men were calling him. A few attractive virgins had been found; the slave traders were a little more restrained as the festival approached realizing that hey would fetch a higher price. Korrinoth was not the only world in the Drule Empire practicing this custom. These virgins were always offered to the liege lord first. No one expected him to come down and them. It was his right, but it had been long gone unused. A gasp came from the gathered group as he made his way down and examined the first girl. This girl, along with the two others, was meant for Lotor's use this year. The duty of the ritual deflowering should have fallen to him after his father had rejected them. In the past, Yurok had been given the honor.

He looked again, the boy was no where to be found. He, on the other hand, was feeling something that he had not in years. He was hard; not for any girl in particular. A feeling of lust seemed to envelope him. She was clad in little. A small thong and a slave's collar adorned her. He sat her down on the coach and started to kiss her. She was drunk with Tyrusian wine and did not fight him, instead moaning in pleasure. He remembered the last time he was going to take a virgin at the festival and laughed. It almost cost him his life. He looked down at the rose; its petals crushed in his hand. He opened his fist and they fell onto his lap, a small red tempest to remind her of him.

He could still see her standing there. Her hair was up in a bun; looking so very proper. She had been angry with him again. He had gone to Tyrus; and though she would not say it; she did not like to share him. The thought amused him as he had only slept with one high priced escort. He would still test the waters to see if another could arouse his desire as much as Althea did. The woman hardly compared and it had meant nothing. He could have pleasured himself and it would have been the same. He had sensed something akin to jealousy; or maybe she was afraid she was just losing her hold on him. He approached her with the gentlest affection he could muster.

"When will you marry me, Althea Carris?" He sighed. "And then I would not go looking elsewhere."

"Never." She stiffened to his touch. He tried to quell his rage. Had he not been good to her and their child? He deserved more from her than being relegated to someone that she took _recreation_ with.

"Have it your way. I have no desire for this year's offering. You will come with me to the Festival of Kitor." He hissed. He performed his duty. He first took the virgins in front of her. And then, he brought out a table covered in her precious roses, her most beloved possession. He forced her down and took her in front of his warmasters. She turned her face away as he punished her body; trying to humiliate her into submission. Her eyes focused on the crowd. His warmasters, who had little interest in the virgins, were now watching everything closely. Some had started to unzip their pants and pleasure themselves. One had already mounted a serving girl and was watching his king as he was thrusting into her. Althea did not fail to notice she was a human.

"I will humiliate you every year until you agree to be my wife. Wives are not allowed, nor their husbands, to attend the Festival of Kitor. You might want to consider that the next time I ask." He hissed as he finished up. He looked into her eyes, the arrogance and defiance were still present, but so were the tears that not only erved to arouse him but his men. They were a cruel race.

"Even your lust can't spoil my roses." She pulled down her dress, not wanting the panting men to see any more. She remembered their looks as they passed by her that evening. For some, the look continued in Court following the Festival. Zarkon took no other women that night, nor did he touch her again. He was more content in watching his favorite's reaction to his men's stares. He had hoped she was frightened by their unmitigated lust.

The next year went no better. For a week the servants heard their impassioned fights. It was always the same, breaking vases and then, from the condition of the sheets, the wild sex that preceded the week of the festival. Zarkon was desperate trying to win her favor by buying her gifts and plying her with wines in order to try to get her to give up and give in. Finally, the night of the festival would arrive. He would sit there as they dressed her up as a whore goddess; each year the outfits had become more and more revealing,

He had her positioned on the bed of roses, in a way she looked like an offering to his god. His men gathered around to watch her yearly defilement. She no longer even looked ashamed as Zarkon began to move himself in between her legs. His lust was quite under control as he had already finished with the virgins who had been thrown back into the herd of women to be fought over. The men had barely noticed them; they were intent on watching their King conquer the gorgeous creature before their eyes. He leaned in to whisper into her ear, offering her a release from this degradation. She knew what he would say before the words came out.

"When will you marry me Althea Carris?" It had almost become a pitiful litany. She looked at the men surrounding them, aware of the effect she was having on them. A look of concern crossed her face. This year, more than last, they looked as if they wanted to devour her. Zarkon also looked over to his men; he was not looking forward to the challenges in the Arena that would probably follow. He was not a young man any more.

"You are not my wife. Any of them can challenge me for you." Zarkon purred in her ear.

"They will not. You are their King." She answered back arching her back up as she felt his hand lift the small of it up. She knew that he was trying to tilt her hips up to meet his thrusts. He laughed as she struggled a bit; he had one or two tricks under his belt. He could usually get what he wanted from her if he was patient.

"You never know. Women are the one thing a warmaster is illogical about. Until I began to bring you here, you were just Althea Carris, the king's favorite. Now they see as a human woman that can take a Drule without screaming." His talon stroked her cheek.

"I thought Drules like it when women scream." She said.

"In pleasure, not pain. But when you are _fucking_ them the ear makes it seem no different." His tongue slid up her neck. He bit into her heard and made her scream causing some of the men to lick their lips as Zarkon lapped up her blood. Althea, feeling his tongue, smiled at the men staring at them. She put her hands on Zarkon's shoulders and scratched deep enough to make him bled, causing him to thrust even harder. She knew it was a contest to see which one of them would hold out longer. Althea laughed; it was all too easy to make A Drule lust and even easier to make them finish up faster.

At that point, Zarkon had forgotten to why he had even brought her down there – his body was filled with the wine and he wanted to make savage love to her. To his surprise, she was more than willing. She matched everything he had and offered more. Althea had found his soft spot and attacked. Warmasters no longer challenged Zarkon for his throne; but to take possession of the woman he called wife. Althea would watch her husband take on her foolish suitors, what else one would call them, in the Arena. Mostly he made short work of them, but sometimes they got in a blow that hurt. She had brought dissent to his Court, it was the price he paid for trying to humiliate him.

The years rolled by, and still nothing had changed. That year, he had started his yearly campaign to bring her to the altar earlier than usual, determined to batter her down. He knew she hated it when he made his trips to Tyrus for an occasional tryst. She would never come outright and complain but she would pout and it could be a weeks and even sometimes months before she requested something worth trading for. What, he wondered, would her reaction be if he really took another lover. He found a willing partner in a warmaster's daughter. This was not a slave but a free Drule; one he told her that he considered marrying since she had not given him the son her desired. For two months, he had barely touched her. Each night, he took the woman to his bedroom and took his recreations with her; it was obvious that he wanted Althea to hear their passionate lovemaking. The next day he would eagerly describe what they did. She had no reaction. He decided to step up his plan, make her seem that he was seriously going to replace her. He made a move that left no doubt to his new favorite was. Althea, curious, decided to play the game and shamed herself, wondering how far he would go. He also replaced Althea with this woman at Court, seating him by her side there and at the banquet table. In the end, it culminated in the Imperial Arena. Had Althea Carris actually won this round, delegated to a warmaster's harem, she may have never suffered her eventual fate. But oddly enough, she had no real desire to win it either. It had been set up to humiliate her King as he had her by bringing another woman into his bed.

The year that Althea tried to have Zarkon assassinated was legendary in the history of the Festival. He remembered that momentous fight, each circling around each other in a macabre dance. The yearly fight had become one to avoid; the servants and even the slaves, moved as far away from Zarkon's chambers as possible. His new favorite, she was sure, must have had her ear to the door. Zarkon had been promising her all sorts of things that week, and the woman told Althea that he was going to marry her. She told Althea she had been pleased with her, and Zarkon had agreed to keep her on as the woman's pleasure slave. Althea looked at the woman and laughed. The poor thing had no idea what was going on. Not a week later, the woman was now hiding behind the almost closed door. Althea could see the young's woman's eyes widen in horror as the conversation progressed.

"You will be my wife." He hissed.

"No, I am your slave. " She said as she turned away from him. "I am just a slave."

"You should be a queen, only your arrogance denies your proper station." He said, hurt by her words.

"Would a king make a queen do the things you have made me do?" She whispered as she dropped to her knees and tugged at his belt. There was no lust here; she was doing this to bait him. "Would a queen be told by her king's mistress that he was going to make her a pleasure slave to serve her lust?" He grabbed her by the arms and picked her up. Her feet dangling. Her eyes were filled with defiance.

"I have been more respectful of late." She looked him in the eyes; until finally he looked away.

"Only a little. You were unforgiveable two weeks ago." She said. A small smile was on her face. "I could not believe what you asked me to do."

"I was angry with you. I do not understand why you are playing the aggrieved. I do not recall forcing or cajoling you into doing anything at all." Zarkon said, his tone somewhat darkened.

"No you were not. That has always turned you on. You forget when you used to make me watch your harem girls do those things? I saw the Evil Impulse arise in you. Did you ever fantasize about making the woman you wish call wife a part of your harem, sad that she did not accept them as sisters in pleasure?"

"It is a moot point", he sighed. "They are gone now. But it would have made my life and yours easier. And what of you? Are you still upset that all my affections are for only you?"

"They have not been of late. You have only come to see me when I was ripe for a mating and to fulfill your favorite's fantasy, or was it yours?" She shot back. She pulled away from his touch. He shook is head. He would have been glad if it truly was jealousy, but he doubted it.

"A situation easily remedied if you would marry me. Are we going to play games are you going to tell me what you want? You were the one who asked me an audience, not the other way around. Did you see a new necklace or has a designer caught your ridiculously expensive eye?" He whispered in her ear.

"You are trying to change the subject." She put her hand on her hip.

"If you are not in the mood to bargain, then save the fight for your bed." He easily carried her over to her bed and threw her down. Zarkon and Althea both heard a small whimper in protest; the door was now more than ajar. He smiled knowing that the woman was watching them; it would make it all that much easier to rid himself of her. In truth, he had been lying in bed for months burning for Althea. The young woman he had been bedding was not even a suitable distraction. One way or the other, once Althea had the audacity to summon him he was going to take his due. "I am going to_ fuck _you all night long_. _You might as well get something out of it." He said with a lecherous smile.

"I want you to marry that chit and be rid of me." She hissed, "Is that worth a trade?"

"Not even remotely possible." He said as he nuzzled her neck. Althea smiled. He was trying to be gentle with her; even accommodating.

"I want you to take her to the Festival rather than me. She is your favorite now." She whispered as he ran her hands across her breast.

"And disappoint my men. Ask me for something else. Ask me to become your husband." He was leaned into her; his erection was pressed up into her.

"If you ever drag another silly little mouse into your chambers again I will...." She said.

"Do what...marry me or refuse my bed? Either way, you are mine for the taking. Sometimes you forget your place." He said as he slid his hand up her leg. "You belong to me. I know why you are so mad at me but I do not understand it. You struck a deal, fair and square. Sorry, you were upset when I made you pay up. I think I finally bested you. That little bauble you wear around your neck today was a mere trinket when one compares it to the memory I have of you making love to her. It was priceless. I was surprised you sold out for so low. I was actually disappointed in you, but then I reasoned that you just might have been just curious. You needed an excuse to experiment." He chuckled.

"I was going to be nice to you until you brought all that up." Althea said with a smirk as she moved her head away from his; denying him her mouth to kiss. He did not care. He was just as angry at her for making him go to such extremes to claim her as his own. The woman was impossible to please. He had already decided to take her that night with no trade; it would be far more enjoyable to force her to accept his affections. If he was lucky she would fight him, even if she just lay there impassively he would still enjoy himself. He wanted submission on her part.

Even talking with Althea had been enjoyable; the other girl barely out of her teens was incapable of having an intelligent conversation. He sighed; that was not it. Althea was probably younger when he first had her. Althea was always different than the others; educated and cultured, she was usually current on Drule Empire affairs. For a human, she was quite intelligent with flashes of brilliant insight that delighted him. He was a little bit annoyed with her; sure she would break this time. She then confused him with her willingness to play with him and his mistress; which further angered him. He thought deep down that she liked being by his side, wielding some influence as the King's woman. The Court itself was confused when he placed this woman by his side; even at the height of his harem no woman was prominently displayed. Althea Carris was the first. And on top of that, he had one woman was in his chambers and another in the adjacent one. The court was not able to discern the right center of power to gravitate to in order to curry favor with the King. Althea Carris was supposed to be the King's _lotor, _not the foolish, but pretty girl, he had next to him.

Zarkon had been patient with this game though he wanted it over. He secretly longed to return to his days and nights by Althea's side. He was shocked, when as a joke; he offered her a necklace to come into his bed to play with his mistress after she made some ridiculous comment. She had always refused when she was in the harem, no amount of beatings or pleadings from him could get her to participate in the games that the girls played with each other– many taking place without Zarkon's presence. His harem master knew his tastes well, and as Althea pointed out, the women taking each other as lovers was something he liked to watch. Garroth had scoured the auctions for women with these tendencies. Althea Carris was not one of them and the women were mad she would not play with them. There was a pecking order in the harem; and it was just another way to reinforce it. When she arrived, Zarkon's current favorite had expected Althea to take care of her needs. She refused and the woman beat her.

The other harem girls were even angrier that Zarkon never pressed the point when he asked her to join them. If any of them had refused such a request they would have been sent to the dungeon, but not Althea. He treated her kindly and never laid a hand on her though she was disrespectful and would pointedly ignore him when he walked in. Zarkon had remembered all of this too. In fact, he was shocked that not only did she participate, but as the evening progressed, she seemed to lose all of her inhibitions as the avaricious Drule female demanded she pleasure her again and again. He was thrilled that she had such a good time with his new playmate, but something did not seem right. Althea could be quite an actress. He had tried for a repeat performance the next day; his new partner was more than willing to have the beautiful woman at her command again. This time, Althea flatly refused and he knew not to ask again. As usual, she was a mystery.

Zarkon had resigned himself to licking her neck; his moans troubling the girl behind the door. Where he was loud with her; he was almost cooing and purring with Althea. He already knew by Althea's mood that she was not going to give him any more enjoyment than an orgasm. She would just lay there when he finally took her. He would try desperately to get a reaction out of her; be it pain or pleasure. He still had not decided which. And she would fight either one, trying not react to either. It was not the most enjoyable thing to do with her in bed; he much preferred the nights when he was calling the shots but any sex with Althea was better than none at all.

Several hours later, he was done. His body was still clinging with sweat and she had that devilish smirk on her face. He did not know why, it was not like he had actually done anything to please her. Just the opposite as he looked at a claw mark on her breast. Her eyes were shining as she licked those ruby red lips. He was sorry that he was so old; debating whether taking her again was worth the effort. Her hair was wild. Her usually kept it straight, but it was a tangled mess. And her skin, it glowed. Althea, after she had sex, whether she liked it or not, looked liked a goddess.

"Stop mooning over me." She said. "I hate that look."

"I cannot help it. You are exquisite. Althea Carris, when will you marry me?" He said as he stroked her cheek.

"Never." She practically growled back as he cuddled against her. She was warm and soft like, a small pink doll in his arms. "Get rid of your little playmate. You shame yourself by making love to a woman who acts like a child."

"If it pleases you, Althea Carris." He murmured.

"I do not care." She said.

"Yes you do; you just refuse to admit it. Your jealous. You do not want to share me." He said with satisfaction in his voice.

"I do not want the father of my child looking like an old fool." She answered back. Her voice was sharp.

"The Festival of Kitor is next week. Do not humiliate yourself in front of my men." He said. "Althea Carris, I am begging you to marry me."

"It is on your soul if I am disgraced. You do not need to bring me. You have the virgins to fuck, and you can prove your virility to your men with your new favorite; that should be enough for any man." He felt her snuggle into his arms as if she belonged there. He had exhausted her and she wanted to sleep. It was hard to believe that there could be anything peaceful between them at times; but for a moment, she lay quiet. He was almost lulled by her actions. "Zarkon", she murmured, "you did not best me." He did not have to look into her face to know that her unforgettable smile was there. "The necklace was just a bonus, as much a trinket to me as you."

"I do not understand." He said.

"You will. I am glad that you enjoyed the show, but as always you will be paying for more than you bargained for. Oh, have that little bitch out of your bed tomorrow. And replace the mattress if you ever want me in your chambers again." It was the last thing she said before she fell asleep. In the morning, the beautiful woman resting so peacefully in his arms would turn into a little tyrant. For his own good, he knew to get rid of the girl. Althea, he had hoped, called a truce. Zarkon, stayed up all night debating what was going on between them. She knew she would never answer what the veiled threat in her words mean. Althea never did anything without calculating the costs. He was beginning to regret last week, in fact, the last two months. She easily agreed to do something she had always recoiled at before; in fact, she approached it as if it were a challenge. By the end of the evening, her inhibitions were gone. In fact, he thought she liked it so much he wanted to arrange another tryst immediately. Yet, the look in her eye told him that it was something she had arranged. After all, it was she who had made the comment that started that particular trade. Althea never asked for a small thing; not as small as the necklace she got in exchange for what had happened. She was planning something big.

On that particular year, Zarkon had an important guest at the Festival that year, the Imperial warmaster Charak. Charak had been visiting the Demon King's court regularly for the past two years. His official role was being the Emperor's Champion and only Zarkon had a steady supply of robeasts capable of keeping the man's form at its best. He was currently the highest ranked sword master in the Drule Empire; he had never been defeated. Zarkon had technically been defeated; he had given up all the time so he could grant favors to men. No one in Court took his defeats seriously; if he wanted to kill a man in the Arena then that man was as good as dead. Zarkon generally preferred to watch Arena fights than participate in them. He had his fill on the battlefields of his youth; he had nothing to prove.

It had all started out as usual. He granted his warmasters their villas, their warships, and an incredible amount of lazon to support their households. It had been an excellent year. Charak, as much as any of the others, seemed in good cheer as they entered the banquet. Althea, dressed more provocatively than he could ever remember, took her seat next to him and smiled her _come fuck me_ smile to all of them. Zarkon shot her a look that could kill but she ignored him. He noticed that she did not eat or drink anything; while the rest of the room; including himself, fell to the spell of the wine. Men were already starting to take advantage of the women as the banquet tables were pulled away. All except his Imperial guest, conveniently seated by his side. He also did not touch what was offered. Not once, but three times had he seen the man make eye contact with his woman and she had returned his smile with her god damned smirk.

The evening only got worse. They brought the virgins out and as their king he went to do his duty. They brought the first out; but he was still watching Althea. She had moved over a seat and was whispering with the man. He had laughed. She put her hand on his shoulder to lean in; a touch far to familiar. He gave out a growl. He shook his head; the wine was affecting him. They brought out the girl and he started to kiss her. The wine was making it easy to forget that this was not Althea and he did not notice when she had joined them. But the crowd did and they encouraged her kisses to the woman's neck; roaring when she started to gently bite down on it causing the young girl to moan. With great interest they moved in. Zarkon, at first, sat their unbelieving as his wife made love to the girl. He was as aroused as his men as he watched Althea take possession of what should have been his. After all, it had been his favorite voyeur activity. Finally, after she decided that the girl had her fill, she left the panting young thing in front of him. Zarkon thanked the gods that there was only one more girl to take because he could barely handle watching her again. He was glad to have Althea on her bed of roses, high above the staring eyes. Even then, in a move that surprised him, she mounted him. She took control and rode him in front of the crowd, his moans were drowned out. Exhausted he rested on the bed as she went to mingle. It was only later that he found her dancing with the warmaster whispering things into his ear. They did not stay for the rest of the festival. He dragged her back to his chambers and thrust her up against the wall, for the first time he had his hands clutched around her throat. She did not seem afraid; in fact, she seemed gleeful.

"Are you finally going to choke the life out of me? I was wondering when this day would come." She sputtered out. Instead he slipped his hands to her waist pinning her against the wall. His erection making its way into her; she was till sopping with his seed. He rammed it into her and her head was being slammed against the wall in unison. Soon he tires of this and threw her on his bed. He continued his tireless pounding until he heard her sobbing underneath her. He had never been that cruel to her before. Finally, he pulled out. She was sobbing uncontrollably. He was shaking.

"No one ever touches you again but me. Not a man, not a woman. Do you understand?" He said; his voice was still shaking. "And to pick Charak of all men to flirt with, he had been lusting after you since he started showing up in my Court. What did he ask you?" Zarkon was starting to calm down. He was stroking her hair. He was rocking her. He had crossed a line.

"He wanted to know how you were in the Arena?" Althea answered back.

"And what did you say?" He looked at her intently. She said nothing. "Althea Carris, what did you say?" He began to shake her.

"I said you have not taken up the sword in years so I did not know." Althea cried out.

"Althea Carris, what have you done? You have basically artranged my death." Zarkon softly said. "He is going to ask for you and I will either have to fight him, and probably lose, or give you away. Do you understand?" She shook her head.

"Althea Carris, will you marry me now? Before it is too late." He pleaded.

"You brought another woman home into our bed. You no longer deserve mine." She stiffly said. He looked into her eyes. The Ice Queen had returned with a vengeance.

"What about Leanarra? We have a child to consider." He hissed back.

"I had not thought of her. She is more yours than mine." Althea answered flatly.

"You are always so selfish. She is your blood." He sat down next to her.

"If you are so worried about her, let me take her to Arus. You can come visit me, I you. I would even consider becoming your wife, but as a free woman. Grant me my freedom." She shouted back.

"No." He said.

"Then you must treat me like a slave." She cried out.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He sighed as he took her in his arms.

"Why are you so afraid to have something taken away from you?" She answered.

"Because I am a Daibaza'al" He whispered to her.

"And I am a Carris." She said. "We never give up until we get what we want."

They both looked up at the ceiling. He sighed. "Explain the trade. Explain tonight. You drank no wine." He started to laugh. She was beyond comprehension.

"I wanted to put on a good show. I had no experience in that area." She burst out laughing. "You brought that on yourself. Be careful for what you lust for."

"Althea Carris you are the most wicked creature that ever lived." He pulled her close. He knew as long as he had her he would die a happy man.

Three months later he was in the Imperial Arena. He fought the legendary sword master for his woman, and then, she made a scene at an Imperial dinner that became the gossip of every Court for months on end. He also remembered that was the night she conceived their son. The son he had dreamed about for so many years. That trip to Drule had been a good one for them. She still refused to marry him unless he let her go back to Arus; he still refused fearful that she would not return. In truth, he never did really know her heart. Yet, there was an understanding on their return. He would no longer go to Tyrus for his flings and she would act more like the wife he wanted. She was kinder and he was less cruel. Then the whole thing with Leanarra erupted; and that seemed to trigger off madness in her that even the witch's spells and medicines could not calm. It made her want to steal away his only son; his heir to the throne. How could he forget as he let go of the woman and called over Yurak to do the honors. He crushed the rose petals with his feet. This was the anniversary of night when the Demon King destroyed the most precious thing he had ever owned. No, he thought, this was the night that he killed the woman that he loved. The only thing that made his miserable life worth living.

It had been years since he had made her do anything more than sit at the Festival of Kitor. He had learned his lesson and after Charak, all other challenges had stopped. It was not fair to entice his men with an untouchable woman and he did not relish going to the Arena anymore. It was a younger man's sport. Still, he forced her to go.

He still remembered their last fight. She was very agitated and she had not been herself for weeks un end. She was dressed and as always looked like some male fantasy come to life. He tried to take her there but she rebuffed him.

"Save if for your virgins." She pushed him away.

"I have not touched them in years. But I may change my mind tonight; you have turned me into a monk." Hs said.

"Not possible. I am your slave. If you wanted you could take me, or whatever slut, whenever you wanted. I could do nothing to stop you." She hissed.

"I will not rape my wife." He said.

"I am not your wife. I had a husband once and you killed him." She cried out. "The desire you saw in my eyes was never for you; I always pretended I was with him. Every time I made love to you I was thinking of him and every time you brought me to pleasure I closed my eyes and pretended it was him instead of you." She screamed back at him.

"You are lying. I am taking you to the Festival tonight and I will make you mine again in front of the gods themselves." He screamed as he rushed out of her chambers. He saw their son at the door wondering how much he heard. He was angry and made his way down to the reception hall earlier than usual. Not knowing who to talk to, he went looking for the witch. She usually calmed his anger, but tonight he fueled it. She plied him with drinks that instead of lulling his mood made him feel even more rage towards the woman he had made his Queen. The Great King sat on the witch's bed and cried. He felt his whole life had been nothing but a cruel game played by the dark lords. They had given him everything just to take it away.

That night would always haunt him. It, in the end, finished him off. Only rarely could he ever feel anything for anyone again. He still remembered the last time he saw her smile; this time it was not for him but for Lotor as she led him away. The witch was with him when he sent the hunters to track them down. She had told him something so disturbing that he hardly believed it himself. Had his head been clearer, had he not felt so much rage, he could have thought it through. Althea Carris, according to the witch, was going to kill their son. Looking back, he knew, no matter how insane she was acting, that she could have never done such a thing. He would have never let him leave with the boy had he actually believed that.

He looked on as the men were beginning to fight foe the women. Gavin, Timon's son, was actually doing quite well. He had already taken two women. He had his doubts about that boy but he seemed to be handling himself well. He was growing concerned about Lotor and sent a messenger to alert the guards.

It was Haggar who found him. He was passed out in her laboratory . It had been years since he had been in this part; avoiding it. Many places in the Castle had unhappy memories for the boy and this was one of them. She touched him but he did not budge, His skin was cool to the touch; his body was trying to put him into a healing coma. She called the guards to help her put him into a bed and to tell the king that the prince had been found. She had no idea why he was done here and not in the infirmary. She drew his blood and started her investigations. It did not take long for the computer to give her the readings she sought. The Great King was not amused at her findings.

Lotor woke up three days later in his makeshift hospital bed, the witch being the only other person in attendance. He sat up. His stomach was empty, his mouth parched and his head was pounding.

"Where am I?" He slowly said, not remembering much after he left the main hall.

"You are in the part of my lab that I do my medical experiments in." He nodded, taking in the room.

"I have been here once before. You sewed up my arm when Mitor bit me. You gave me something for the pain so I would stop crying." He swallowed.

"You were not crying because you were in physical pain. That's why you came here – looking for the elixirs that will take away the weight of your sins." The witch looked him over. He winced when she moved the blankets away started to pull out his catheter. She cackled as he blushed. She pointed to a bathroom. "There are clothes for you in there."

Haggar sighed. In the background she heard the water run. It had been many years since she had the prince come and visit her here. Mitor, the King's largest hunting dog had bit him in the woods. The boy returned covered in blood and his mother was screaming in the gardens for someone to come. Luckily, only Haggar was around. She was getting some medicinals for a potion. The boy was incoherent but had a look of totally contentment on his face. The boy only had a small wound; too small to account for the amount of blood that was splashed all over his body. Haggar saw the look in his eyes, the blood, and began to fret. She demanded that Althea not bring him to Nerok but to follow her. They washed the boy in that very bathroom and while Althea went to get him new clothes she repaired his arm. Then the boy out of nowhere began to scream; it was a terrible thing to hear and he would not stop it until Haggar gave him something to drink. It was bitter and they had to force it down his throat,

Finally, he calmed down enough to tell them what had happened. Mitor bit him and he became angry. Then, he said, he remembered no more." Haggar nodded, she seemed to understand. She demanded that he take her to where he had been with the dog. He was hesitant and Althea thought it best he should rest, but Haggar persisted. Lotor brought them to what was left of the mutilated corpse. Althea wondered who could have done such a thing. The ghoul dog was almost as large as she was; a massive beast with large jaws. The bite Lotor had would have been just a playful nip. If the dog wanted to he could have easily ripped off his arm let alone bite him.

"Mitor bit me. I killed Mitor. Father will be angry, it is his best dog." Tears were flowing down his cheeks. Haggar asked Althea to help her drag the body into a more secluded area. It was Korrinoth, it would be scavenged soon.

"The bloodlust is strong in him. It will be his undoing." Haggar whispered to Althea.

"Lotor is lying. He could have never done this. All he has is his small hunting knife." Althea said.

"You are thinking like a human. He has his teeth, and his claws, and he has the bloodlust. Lotor did this. If his father's warmasters find out about this they will kill him. Korrinoth is no place to raise a child afflicted with this. He needs a gentle environment." Haggar mused.

"Like Arus." Althea answered.

"Yes, like Arus." The witch said. "You must not tell Zarkon. He is bound by the Law to execute Lotor." The witch held back her joy as she saw the horror in the Queen's eyes. She knew the Law could be demanding in its punishments. That was the day when Haggar began to plot her return to Zarkon's bed, and hopefully, her rightful place as Queen of Doom. Had Althea told Zarkon what had happened he would have taught Lotor how he learned to control it; after all the feared trait had been handed down from time immemorial in the House of Daibaza'al; making them one of Korrinoth's famous warmaster families. He would have taught him discipline to control it and Althea would still be alive. She had not left Doom because of Zarkon; she left it because she was afraid that her son's life was forfeit.

Lotor came out of the bathroom; looking weak but better than he had several days before. She handed him a flask and a container full of a black powder.

"It will not show up on Imperial drug tests and it keeps your head clear." She pushed it into his hands.

"It is over. I am clean." He said, angry at her insistence to the contrary.

"The urge will come back. They will still make you do terrible things. You are a warmaster. When you drink this it will make it easier. It is what I prepare for your father's men. No one will think less of you for drinking it here. Even your father does."

Lotor stared at her. She was a horrid woman to behold; all wrinkles and flesh where there once was beauty.

"Fine, but I tell you I do not need this." He grabbed the containers and began to head out.

"Prince Lotor, the Great King requires your presence in the Main Hall. I suggest you make haste." She grabbed his arm as he started to leave. "He is angry about this. Act humble and hold your tongue."

Lotor dropped off the things in his rooms and found his way to his father's Court. His father's sharp insults were hurled down upon him. He had more than the usual of his warmasters in attendance and they listened and nodded with approval. In the corner of his eye, he saw Gavin there, a stupid smile plastered on his face. The only reason that they did not join in was that they still feared the Prince's sword. Lotor was finally dismissed. The transport taking him back to the _Kiros _would be departing late that evening. He did not have much to do but he decided the best thing was to lay low and keep out of everyone's way.

He was surprised when his father came up to say goodbye. The man looked at the tray in his room.

"You did not join me for dinner. Does this mean we are not speaking to each other? Considering your actions you should be thankful that all I gave you was a tongue lashing in Court." Zarkon said. He sat down on Lotor's white couch. His hand slid across the leather. "Your mother had exquisite taste." Lotor turned away and walked out onto the balcony. His room, like hers, overlooked the Western Sea. The lightening storms were beginning to start.

"When I was a child I was so frightened of the storms. She used to come in here and stay with me until I fell asleep. Now, when I see them it makes me happy. I feel like she is still here; keeping me safe." Lotor sighed. "I only wish I could have kept her safe that night she died. I will never attend a Festival of Kitor. It is the night you killed my mother. I remember everything." There was no anger in Lotor's voice, only sadness.

"It is done." Zarkon sighed.

Lotor turned to Zarkon. "Who was Hiro?" He saw his father rise up; his fists were balled as if he were going to hit him.

"He was a slave. He is long dead. Why bring up that name?" He snarled.

"It was the last thing she said to me. She said "Tell Zarkon, I lied about Hiro. None of it was true. Tell him, I finally learned to lie." Lotor was crying. "Father, you are a demon, you taught an Arusian to lie."

"Lotor..." Zarkon touched his shoulder but Lotor batted it away.

"Did it serve you to humiliate me in Court today?" Lotor looked at him. "Tell me, when does it stop? You have a head start this time, I am already broken and bleeding to death you just cannot see my wounds yet. Every time you look at me, you must know that a part of her, your _lotor_, still exists. You will never be free of her until I am destroyed."

"Always so arrogant. Leanarra and I get along fine. She looks so much more like Althea Carris than you ever will. There is no tension there. It could be the same with us." Zarkon said.

"Leanarra does not remind you of Althea Carris, but I do. To the grave we will be at each other's throats." Lotor turned and smirked." Were the words important." Lotor said.

"Devastating. She won." Zarkon said.

"Good. I saved them for a day like this." Lotor said. "You may strike me now." He stepped away from the balcony and faced his father.

"I am in no mood to fight with a Carris tonight. Lotor, the roses were a nice touch. You are a bastard." Zarkon wiped away a tear.

"I am the son of the Ice Queen, could you expect less?" Lotor bowed and Zarkon left. No, thought the old king, nothing less.


	11. Chapter 11

Atonement

"You are going home so soon. You have only been here for a month. I thought..." She looked at him not without accusation in her eyes.

"You were never one for a loss of words. What did you think?." His tone had a sharpness in it she did not expect. He already felt that she was becoming a bit too possessive; something he would tolerate only to a certain degree.

"That we could spend our next leave together. I have been enjoying your company." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hungrily kissed him. His hands circled around her waist, she seemed lost in the large white bathrobe that she had practically lived in for three days. He looked around the hotel room and chuckled. He wondered how they had tipped over the couch. He pulled away and went over to make it right; carefully lining it up with the table.

"Carris, leave it. The hotel staff will put the room back together. Still the perfectionist." She laughed. "I am surprised that you even like sex. Al those bodily fluids."

"Showers." He stated to her query. "You need an apartment." He mused.

"In the Imperial City, on a junior officer's salary. You must be mad." She looked around and shook her head. "This hotel room must have cost you a ½ month's pay. Stay on Drule for your leave. We could find a cheap resort room on the Kilos coast to trash. My treat." She said as she planted her hands firmly on his rear end.

"Stop teasing me. I do not have a choice in the matter. My King demands it of me." He gave her a serious look. "I would not be good recreation anyway. It is the time of year Korrinoth makes atonement for our sins, you would never understand it. There are restrictions that would leave me lacking in that area." He smiled.

"You, a celibate?" I can hardly believe that." Sharra put her fingers through his hair. He grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder. Tossing her on the bed he gave out a hearty laugh. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder and abstinence makes my cock grow harder. You just better be where I tell you when it is over. That is an order. The minute this damn thing is over I want to buried deep inside of you." He growled as he ripped opened her robe."

"And if I am not at the appointed place? After all, maybe I will have taken up with another while you are away. No one is demanding I remain faithful." She whispered back.

"I would not disobey me. You have ever been disciplined by a warmaster before. In your case, it would involve whips, and chains, and a pounding with a very hard stick." He grinned as he looked down at her voluptous body. Her full breasts and thin waist were balanced out by a round, firm ass. He had been a fool not to have enjoyed her at the Academy.

"Is that a threat, or a promise?" She laughed back at him. "Do I get a sample of my punishment." A slight hint of defiance was in her voice.

He was not gentle when he entered her; but then, after three days, he had learned that she had no desire to be made love to in that way. He had tried the other way at first and she seemed disappointed, ridiculing his prowess as a supposed warmaster. She had made it clear that she intended to be conquered, but in the end he was worse for the wear. She was a lustful creature who had practically exhausted him. His own skin was full of bite marks and scratches and he knew that there would be stares at work. She had even bitten into his neck and there would be those who would assume that he had taken a man for as a lover. Not that he cared that much about the gossip; a young Korronite male were known to be adventerous in their explorations. He just did not want to put up with those type of advances; especially from the senior officers. He wondered if she had left some of those marks on purpose; it would have been in her character to cause him some trouble. She had always been a mischevious girl. He was almost relieved when the alarm had gone off that morning, since he had little left to give her. He would have to be reporting back to the Imperial Court; he was there to serve as Hazar's liason for the next eight months. It was supposed to be an honor; but he felt it a punishment. The only reward, so far, had been locating Sharra again.

Lotor did not know why his father called him back home. He had only been there four months ago and, as usual, it had been an unmitigated disaster. His father, proud that his son was to attending his first Festival of Kitor, had assembled an incredible selection of woman for him to claim. In the end, he left, empty handed. In disappointment, the Great King had handed him the key to his own private residence designed to house the prizes he was supposed to claim. Instead, he was raiding Haggar's lab looking for drugs to get him through the night. Haggar covered for him; but the damage was done. He had humiliated the Great King in his own court. His father's fists, and his hard words, had come crashing down him in front of everyone. Even Gavin, who had claimed three women for his own, looked at him in disappointment.

Lotor was a little unnerved when, upon his return from Doom, Hazar had presented him with new set of orders. He would have thought himself to be too junior to be acting as his liason at Court, that position usually reserved for a senior lieutenant about to be promoted to captain. Lotor knew that Hazar was not pleased that everyone who was present at the planning of the Battle of Tanar knew that his masterpice, had belonged to a twenty year old Korrinite. Lotor had not said a word about it, in fact, if anything had played it down. Gavin and Yorak knew, as most of the command staff, but Hazar was the Commander of the Advance Guard. The credit of their successes was his, as well as their failures. Perhaps, thought Lotor, his rotation off ship would dim the memory of his contribution. Even Gavin was pleased; his exile ended he was returned to the Vulture's Perch as Lotor's replacement.

Emperor Zeppo's Court was nothing like his father's and Lotor did his best to keep his head down. Few knew that he was Zarkon's son; the Emperor not letting that fact slip to the gossips. Zeppo, like everyone else, knew that the Demon King had always feared that his human hybrid son would be too weak to inherit his kingdom. He wanted the boy to prove that he could be a fierce warrior on his own. Lotor, for the most part, was aware that this was the arrangement rarely sharing the news.

Gavin knew, but his family was close to this father. Timon, Gavin's father and Zarkon's Chief Intelligence officer, had made it clear that the king did not want the information that his son was a Supremacy officer to be common knowledge. Timon pointed out that if Gavin slipped; the whole family might suffer for his indisgression. Gavin had not known Lotor as anything but another officer and a friend. It was hard to think of him as his future king, let alone the crown prince. He was content to leave things were they were; Lotor generally had enough influence over him as was. He did not need to encourage it. Hazar, Mongo and Inspector Finar were the only other Imperial Officers who shared this knowledge, along with the Commandant at the Academy and Zeppos' retired warmaster. Hazar did not care, Mongo and the rest decided best to keep their secret hidden not wanting to cross paths with the Demon King.

Then there was Prince Skath who had told Yorak; a fact that Lotor knew was controllable. Yorak had an early education in dealing with royals and now only dealt with Lotor when a security problem arose. They had come to a truce after the Academy; one that each had found beneficial. Yorak arrested; Lotor executed. Yorak, after watching Gavin collapse, rarely called in any other warmasters. He watched on his monitor as Lotor almost pulled the trigger; no hesitation was apparant. It was only Gavin's plaintive cries that made him stop. Although, Jaffe survived, Yorak knew he had found his man. Deserters and scoffs, drug addicts and rapists, and the insubordinate all found their way in front of Lotor's blaster. Yorak gave him credit. He never flinched and the other warmasters were content in handing over the unpleasant duty.

On Drule, he was just another Imperial Officer skirting around the edges; consigned to the lowliest banquet tables and served the worse fare at these elaborate dinners. The head tables were served the delicacies of the Empire; the back tables were served overcooked poultry. It was weeks before he was even called to a private audience. The Emperor simply handed him a note stating that if the Emperor considered Lotor a political hostage he should remember that Zarkon had four more grandsons to fill the slot of Crown Prince of Korrinoth. The Emperor asked for an explanation; had Lotor thought he was threatened. Lotor shrugged. There had been no communications between his father's court and the Emperor's.

"Your Majesty, is there some reason that you are bringing this to my attention? It is well known that Korrinoth will not save a hostage; I think my father is reminding you of that fact or maybe he is reminding me. We are not speaking to each other right now, I have refused his calls." Lotor added.

"The House of Daizaba'al lives for drama. Your father had been trying to reduce the number of men that the Ten Kingdoms owe the Empire with more lazon. My Council is beginning to question whether we have relied too much on the lazon and not enough on the manpower. Things have become tense, to say the least. Your father wants you to come home for the Days of Atonement. Perhaps, you would consider going and playing diplomat to my cause." Lotor sighed.

"As Your Excellency commands, so shall it be." The Emperor did not fail to notice the look of resignation n the young man's face. He did not take Lotor for a weak man; he knew it must be a hard thing to be the son of the Demon King.

"Lotor, are you enjoying the Imperial Court?" Lotor nodded yes. He added that he had gone to many of the entertainments that were provided nightly; his new post giving him far more leisure time.

"I hear it is far different than your father's court." Lotor looked at the Emperor; not sure if he wanted him to say something to disresprct his father or Korrinoth.

"Yes. In many ways it is superior in its offerings." The Emperor gave Lotor an odd look. "And how, in the gods name, is it inferior to your father's?" The Emperor genuinely seemed put off by the prince's remark. His was the finest Court in the Drule Empire, maybe even in the known Universe.

"Your Arena lies dark." Lotor quietly said.

"So. It is a testament to how far we come. It is rarely employed. The Ten Kingdoms could learn from our example." The Emperor responded.

"The Westerners have not forgotten to use the sword." Lotor said, a little more forcefully.

"And look how they did at the Battle of Taran. You, more than anyone, should know this. You saw the carnage that the Advance Guard wrought. The sword is an inefficient weapon. Blasters are smaller, easier to train men on, and more importantly, cheaper. " The Emperor retorted. He had a heard time believing that the supposedly brilliant officer was having a hard time comprehending it.

"Your Excellency, efficiency is not the point. I have met few Modern Drule who have come to terms with what we are; they are no more than clever animals. The Arena was given by Batak so that we could learn to discipline our bloodlust, so that we learned to control it. You have tried to purge it." Lotor said in a matter of fact tone.

"We easily defeated them on Taran." The Emperor bristled at Lotor's remarks.

"I assure you, it was mostly luck. They will not make the same mistake again. Your armies are not ready for them." Lotor looked straight into the Emperor's eyes.

"Armies full of thin, small, pointy eared weak Drules. I am terrified." The Emperor laughed.

"Yes, armies full of me." Lotor bowed.

"Boy, do not patronize Your Emperor." Lotor picked his head up; the man was not amused. He was sensing their audience would be ending shortly..

Your Excellency, it was not my place to comment. Forgive me." The Lotor bowed his head again.

"Give my greetings to your father. Tell him I have no use for a Korrinite hostage." The Emperor smiled. Lotor left the room. The Emperor crumpled up that paper in front of him. The Emperor's threats had been useless. The King had refused to grant the soldier's; Lotor's execution would have been pointless. It was almost as if the Demon King was goading him into doing it. The Emperor, remembering what happened to the Arusians after Lotor's visit, decided it was better to send back to Doom a live emissary rather than a head in a box. Lotor had barely escaped the latter. For a moment, the Emperor had a vision of the Demon King, his yellow Wyvern teeth exposed, looming over him.

Lotor went back to his own apartment to pack. He was still getting used to the overcrowded capitol that was sprawled before his balcony. His apartment was in the center of the city; overlooking the Imperial Plaza that contained the Emperor's Palace, the Supreme Council, the main temple complex and the Arena which was once, Lotor could tell, the centerpiece of the complex. He had yet to inform Sharra about his apartment, in truth, he had let no one over. It had been beautifully furnished. His father, no matter how upset with him, was not one to cut his allowance. Lotor, for the most part, had lived modestly and huge sums had been deposited for his enjoyment. Until recently, Lotor had not even thought to touch it. But his interest in other things, including women and drugs, had loosened up his purse. The apartment, though not the largest in the city, was probably one of the more elaborately furnished and geographically desired. In some ways it was a waste, this posting would be a short one, he was not going to sit for four years and hand over Hazar;s memos. In a month, Hazar had not contacted him once. If he was not recalled to the Advance Guard soon; he would tender his resignation. His father could come up with an excuse to come home. He would not just sit her and rot. Self-denial, he reminded himself, did not lead to the truth path his life should take. Discipline did."

He turned on the large monitor to listen to the news. Things were not going so well on Drule these days. Several terrorists groups had been challenging the Emperor's right to rule, though mostly covert, their leaders had been getting bolder in their message and had enlisted some of the more populist politicians to deliver their message. Unemployment was high; one of the reasons that The Ninth Kingdom had so many new slaves. It was easier for the government to sell them off on the intergalactic market than to bring them back to a world that was so overcrowded that there was not enough food, jobs or resources. Lotor lived in the world of the Imperial Court where every one was fed and clothed.

The Ten Kingdoms, only freshly emerged from their colonial stage, were still underpopulated. Their were many sentient species in the Denubian Galaxy; but the two most successful in spreading their influence and control; the humans and the various races of Drule, were do diametrically opposed in composition. The humans had no real physical defense against its enemies; there were no claws, or teeth, or even real strength in relation to their size to keep theri enemies at bay. They relied on teamwork to accomplish the most simple of things. According to their scientists, the Drules, however, were descended from solitary animals that resided in treetops. Predatory by nature, they hunted for themselves and the occassional child that was bred. Ferocious by nature, casual sex seemed to be the peace offering when these early ancestors met. Mating was a far more serious matter since the unpartnered mother could only raise one young at a time. It became infrequent at best. Due to their original solitary nature they developed fangs, claws, and a high muscle density. Evolution came, but the social groups that the humans formed, seemed to predate the Drules. Here the humans were far more developed.

Drules were still constantly at war with each other over possession of the simplest things; property and women being the most obvious. They had come out of the trees and had evolved to the point of taking long term mates; but the instincts that surround such things were still forming. Monogamy and the family unit based around it was still a fairly new concept, only dating back 2,000 years. It was an artificial construct made popular by the majority of males who had been denied access to females for thousands of years by the more aggressive subset of males that ruled over them. Lotor looked at the window and sighed; the results of monogamy before him.

He had a few calls to make. A travel agent to book a fast transport was first on his list; even though he was in no rush to return home. He called up his real estate agent to find him an apartment close by, but not so close that there was not some trouble in visiting his; his banker and a broker for a decent flyer. He was going to have to tell Sharra who he was. She would be crushed. She thought he was just Carris; the magistrate's son. Instead, she was going to be met the Prince of Doom upon his return. She might be angry; she might even reject him and his gifts. Sharra was funny like that; you never would no her reaction if she thought he was treating her like a concubine. Instead, he thought, one would have to treat her like a mistress. He had never had one before and the thought intrigued him. In fact, a mistress was better. Concubines were expected to give a warmaster children; a mistress only sex.

Three days later; the transport landed. Lotor, along with the crew and the other passengers, was exhausted when it finally landed. What a sad group, he thought, as he got off. The richest men and women of the Empire, have just spent three days puking their brains out, so they could get somewhere fast. He made his way not to Castle Doom but to the beautiful home his father had constructed for him that some architect named the Keep. Of course, he knew it was supposed to signify that his home was a strong, fortified tower but keeps were also places that prisoners were kept. He wondered if his father had intended on keeping him there0 upon his return.

Lotor soon found out when his father came by the next day. His father, still angry about Kitor and the fact that he had not returned his calls, fell upon him in a frenzy. The fists left his lips bloodied and he was wondering if the man may have fractured a cheek bone. With little effort, the man had grabbed his throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Did you get the memo?" He growled as he threw Lotor up against the wall.

"In triplicate, father." Lotor sais in gulps. Zarkon smiled that his son had been able to get at least this out. He had become stronger over the years; by now he wasusually passed out. He dropped him.

"You will dine with me tonight." Zarkon said in a conversational tone; his eyes glistening. "I have a surprise for you – one that you will especially appreciate." Lotor winced. His father's surprises were seldom good when he announced them ahead of time.

Lotor spent most of the day in meditation. The period of Atonement had begun the previous night. During the day not a drop of water or a morsel of food was to pass his lips. Every night, a small meal was allowed but not nearly enough to saite any Drule's appetite. Bred for slavery, they were a hardy race who could go for long periods of want, but by the end of it all, the devout were ravenous for everything that had been denied them; food and sex being the first thing that was sought.

His father was very late for the meal; Lotor knowing full that this was done on purpose. The table was stacked with foods; Lotor looked away as the servants kept coming in and piling it up with his favorite foods. His father was trying to tempt him. The Great King did not fast and rarely took devotions to the gods; claiming he did not believe in such nonsense. Zarkon claimed he had nothing to atone for. Lotor rose as the Great King entered his private dining room; one of his favorite hunting dogs traveling behind him. Lotor fell to his knee; offering submission to his king.

"Get up, Lotor." The King grumbled. Zarkon pulled out a chair and sat; the green and yellow beast at his feet. "Sit down, I prepared a feast for my one and only heir. Eat, even at the Imperial Court, there is not enough food. You are still woefully thin."

"Sire, the Emperor wants less lazon and more men." Lotor said as he carefully kept his plate to a minimum.

"You need to work on your diplomacy skills." His father said with a smirk. "You are too direct."

"Father, he is serious." Lotor said as he slowly picked at his food, trying to prolong the meal as long as possible. His father watching, somewhat annoyed that he had ignored the mountain of meat piled high in front of the young man.

"I know, he basically said he was going to serve you at his next banquet if I did not comply. I need the men. I only have to delay Zeppo a few more years, ten at the most. He needs me more than I need him." Lotor could see Zarkon calculating something in his head.

"Why, what have you planned?" Lotor said.

"After you come home we shall speak of it; but not while you serve them." Zarkon said as he speared a huge hunk of meat; ripping into it in front of Lotor who looked away. It did not help much; he could still smell all of the meats. His mouth was savoring the crisped flesh below and he groaned a bit.

"I made a decision. Though you are a bit young for this, you will perform the Sacrifice of the Atonement. After all, you seemed so fixated on the worship of Batak." Zarkon's eyes were gleaming. Lotor slammed down his glass of wine.

"Father, you know how that practice repels me, we hae discussed it many times. It is done by custom only; no other Drules do this. You can decree, in the name of Batak's mercy, that it be abolished." Lotor had a look of disgust on his face. Zarkon knew that this would upset him; the boy from a young age had been appalled by the yearly execution. He was still rather upset with Lotor and he felt it was a fitting punishment considering the high value Lotor put on their religion.

"It is a great honor for the High Priest to die in this manner. He will serve Batak in the Dream Realm. My men beg me to be chosen for the honor of being the instrument that sends him to his eternal reward." Zarkon said through a mouth filled with food. It pleased him that Lotor was getting more and more upset as the meal progressed on. Lotor alternated looking away and staring at the man who fathered him; who had always been a mystery to him. At time, he was incredibly generous, especially with his men. Sorrinoth, his capitol, had some of the finest schools and medical facilities in the world; many free to its citizens. And to his mother, Althea, her every desire had been eventually granted – save that of her freedom. And yet, deep down, Lotor knew that they all paid – both soldier and citizen alike. Even this poor priest, who had just spent his year in possession of the finest harem,ever assembled, comprised of the Temple's priestesses, would pay dearly. The King had sent his men scouring his realm for them; free or slave they had no choice but to serve Batak's living representative on Korrinoth. The interior of the Temple and the High Priest's personal residence were beyond compare; its furnishings like the Temple's women, surpassed the King's. For a year, the man would have all this after having a life of relative ease in the Temple complex. And then, he would be sacrificed. Yes, Lotor thought, the King was a generous man.

"You look as if you doubt this. I had always thought you were so orthodox in your beliefs." Zarkon grinned.

"I have read other things and seen other Temples that would make me doubt the authenticity of this practice and belief." Lotor said.

"I send you to Neraku and you come back looking down on your own people. Soon, you will be talking like an _Imperial_ and calling us savages." Zarkon answered back.

"I do not need to be with the Imperials for that. I made that realization years ago." Lotor answered back. "Korronites, as a race, has always prided ourselves for keeping our baser instincts close at hand. Father like it or not, we are the most primitive of the Drules; the last race to be conquered and incorporated by Jain."

"You speak as if you are ashamed of this fact." Zarkon said with a snort.

"Niether proud or ashamed; it is just a fact." Lotor sighed.

"Well, son, I would not worry about it. You barely have any Korronite blood in you, or Drule for that matter. You are more human than anything else." Zarkon said with a smile; trying to goad Lotor into saying something.

"That does not make me any less savage. You try to make it as if they are so weak, Yet, they are making an excellent foothold into our galaxy. They bring their own savagery with them – there is not a sin a Drule has committed that has not been done by a human; a few that their creative minds have conceived of that we cannot even comprehend." Lotor sighed.

"Like cutting down a field of 30,000 men in a matter of minutes. Lotor, that was quite creative." Lotor shifted in his seat; wondering how his father knew of his involvement." Zarkon looked thoughtfully at his son. "I have spies on the _Kiros _too. There is no where that you can go without me knowing what you are up to."

"My imagination or have the sent the witch to pry there to?" Lotor gave him an odd smile.

"I had not thought of that. It could be an interesting project; a way to get into someone's dreams. Smash their hopes. Crush the essence of their soul. Can you think of a more devastating weapon?" Zarkon sat back and took another piece of meat. He poured himself another glass of wine.

"Do you like your new home? It will make it easier for us to avoid each other. I thought you would appreciate that." Zarkon said. His voice was impassive. Lotor sighed thinking this another one of his challenges.

"I do not avoid you on purpose. I sometimes become weary in trying to please you. It is hard for you to bear anything less than perfection from your son. And I am not a perfect thing; I am flawed and cracked through and through. I feel like I am in pieces; there is little order within me. I fight to keep what little control I have intact; desperate for discipline. And on top of that, I am supposed to make you happy. No one could make you happy but Althea. Not before, not after. She made you less savage." Lotor said; Zarkon seeing resignation in Lotor's eyes.

"You are trying to convince me that the woman that hated me made me happy. Althea was a slave; a beautiful slave. That was all she was." Zarkon put his glass of wine down.

"You loved her. You can sit there and deny it all you want; but you loved her. Arus conquered Korrinoth." Lotor poured himself another glass of wine.

"Korrinoth destroyed Arus or are you forgetting how I cut down your hosts." Zarkon looked at Lotor, waiting or a reaction.

"No, father. I have not forgotten." Lotor looked at his father and sighed.

"She did not hate you; not all the time. She liked it when you took her to Gershon. She loved the thunderstorms." Lotor looked down on his plate.

"What makes you bring this up? It was so long ago." Zarkon looked unsettled.

"You need to apologize to Althea. It is the one sin you need to atone for." Lotor looked into his wine and twirled it around.

"I have committed genocide, enslaved populations, taken everything a man could take from another, including his soul; and all you are asking me to atone for is this particular sin. Why?" Zarkon put down his wine glass and stared across the table.

"Because I have never asked you for anything in my life but this." Lotor looked at Zarkon and shook his head.

"I have always provided well for you. Your bank accounts are full of credits. I gave you a home and the flyer. I see you have purchased not one but two residences on Drule. It seems my son had taken a lover." The King gave a lecherous smile which Lotor ignored. "How can you say that I have not given you everything you ever asked for?"

"Father, I have never asked you for the homes, the flyer or the money. You just gave it because you are a generous man by nature; it was never asked for." Lotor said evenly.

"I will not argue semantics with you." Zarkon bristled. "The real question is why is this so important to you?"

"I want there to be peace between us. I want to forgive you." Lotor looked away; tears forming in his eyes.

"Never. I will never forgive her for what she did. I have nothing to atone for." Zarkon slammed his wine glass on the table. "And what of you, before you point your sanctimonious finger at me, is there no one that you have caused harm to?" His father was obviously upset and turned away from him; in effect he was being shunned. "Leave my presence, _son."_

Lotor respectfully bowed and pulled away from the table. His father's words lay heavy upon him. His sins were too many to count. There was some truth to his father's words; he always tended to see only the evil in the man and not in himself. He went down the hallways and into the Royal Treasury. The guards saluted; before they opened up the vaults to their young prince. He typed in Arusian royal family and waited for the listings of the inventoried items. He went to the numbered location and removed the tiara. He was not shocked to find it there; Queen Alanna always wore it. She had it on her head the day his father had cut her down. He liked to take trophies of his kills. He ordered a car to drive him home. He looked at the tiara; it was too delicate a thing to belong on Korrinoth. It belonged back on Arus on a female worthy enough to wear it.

He left early the next day; packing a sleeping bag and a little food. The flyer was still in the hanger and this time he had little trouble leaving. The strange voice of Captain Cossack harrasing him again, but there was no lasers tracking him. The jump brought him in front of the blue and white orb; so different from the gray and black one he called home. It was two days before he spotted the young woman again; one day before he could catch her alone.

"Ava", he called from the trees. She looked up; trying to discern where the voice was coming from. The woman with the golden hair tried to run away; but with her gowns; ridiculous for tramping through the forest it was a losing battle. He quickly caught up and before she could scream he had covered her mouth.

"Sshh. No need for that. I promise to behave if you are quiet. I just want to talk. Too much noise and we will have to find something else to do." He said, with a bit of menace in his tone. "Now, I am going to let go and we are going to sit down. Nod your head if you agree?" He watched the pretty head bob up and down.

"Why do they let you come out here alone? There are dangerous things in these woods and I fear for your safety. There are snakes out here." He said as he released her. She slowly moved to the ground.

"Nothing is worse than what I see in front of me. You are a monster." She said; her eyes were beginning to flow with tears. Lotor rolled his eyes as he settled down next to her. He saw her eye his blaster and smiled. At first, he thought that she had lacked spirit, but the glint in her eye told him otherwise."

"Ava, you never answered the question I posed to you before. Are you of noble birth?" Lotor mused as he brushed away one of her stray hairs.

"Does it matter much when you are raping a woman?" She spat back.

"I never really thought about it. If she was unmarried and high enough rank, the Law might demand I marry her under certain circumstances. So, I guess, depending on the situation, yes. I am sure I saw a legal code about that once." He started to bite on his lower lip as if trying to recall something. Allura almost had to stifle a smile; that look of consternation was exactly how she remembered it. Lotor sensed her amusement and shot a glance back at her.

"Are you of noble rank?" She thought for a second and nodded. He took her hands and turned them over. "I remember them not being the softest things I ever felt." She blushed in the memory of what he had made her do with them.

"Things are hard. We all help out. My hands are no longer those of a lady." She answered.

"There is no shame in hard work." He answered her back with a smile. "These hands have known a callus or two. After all, I am just a lowly officer in the service of his Emperor. I fear one as noble as you would reject my affections. In my desperation, and I dare say lust, I lost discipline. This is a grievous sin . I have come to apologize for my inappropriate actions."

"So, you kidnap me in the woods. This is not the way to apologize." Allura smoothed out her dress.

"No, my lady, this is." He pulled out the simple tiara. Allura started to shake as she took it into her hands,

"Where did you get this?" Allura said, pulling it close.

"I stole it from the Demon King's Treasury. I suffered in my escape from the palace. He pointed to his bruised face and bloodied lips. "All to gift this to you. Put it on, I want to see what a Queen looks like." Allura studied the tiara that she had not seen since she was a child. It was as much a part of her mother as anything else had been.

"Beautiful. You have the look of the last Arusian Queen, were you related?" Allura began to cry at those words. He drew her close. "I hope your tears are for her and not me, I would never harm you. I regretted my earlier actions, I have come here looking for forgiveness. If you are as kind as I think you are, you would find it in your heart to forgive a foolish young man." Allura pulled away he and he let her go.

"What does a Drule care for forgiveness? How can I forgive this?" Her arms opened wide. "You have destroyed my world." She said.

"Not I, dear lady. I have nothing but appreciation for this world and the beautiful things contained within its bounds," Lotor turned and touched her hair; tracing a stray of sunshine reflecting on it.

"Do not try to charm me with your words, you are a scoundrel of the worse sort." She said.

"Guilty as charged, but that does not negate the truth I speak. You are exquisite." He turned her chin to look into those large, blue eyes. The tears had washed away; leaving them clear and bright. His hand reached over to trace her bottom lip. "Pretty mouth." He murmured.

"You promised to behave." Allura stiffly said.

"I thought I was, my mistake." He pulled his hand away and chuckled.

"We have never been properly introduced. My name is Carris." Lotor put out his hand for her to shake. Allura thought it an odd gesture considering what had occurred between them. For a moment, she wondered why he was lying. Maybe he was not Lotor. The name Carris was not a Drule one, every Arusian knew what it once meant. Whoever he was; he was a strange man.

"Carris, you say. Well it has been nice to meet you, but I need to go before my friends get worried. Thank you for the tiara, it was good of you to return something taken from Arus." He seemed a bit sad that she was leaving. She watched him bite his lower lip again as if considering what to do or say. For a moment, he looked like a little boy or, she thought, like some magical fairy prince from her childhood books. She did not know why but she kissed him; her hands sliding into that thick mane of luxurious hair. His lips fell on hers and he pressed back; nibbling gently on them. The kisses went back and forth between them until he pulled away; visibly upset and very aroused.

"Have you granted me forgiveness?" Allura shook her head no.

"Not yet. What you did to me was wrong. You should not force a person to be with you in that manner." Allura said softly.

"Then why the kiss? You are an evil temptress. I came here as a gentleman. I came to make ammends and you are the one who tries to reignite the Evil Impulse." He at up, brushed himself off and stormed away. His devotions that morning had been no shield against her. The one sin he had committed that he had hoped he could make right, his earlier lack of discipline around her, had led to temptation again. She was too young to play these games with. His heart, full of lust, had betrayed his body. He was in need of discipline. He returned home and immediately found his way to the Temple and confessed his sin to the kind priestess, He barely flinched when the whip first found his flesh; the agony coming much later. He was a Korronite, he could take many lashes before he passed out from the pain.

The final day of the Atonement came. At times, the hours and minutes seemed to crawl, and then as the last moments approached, they seemed to inexorably speed up. Lotor was hoping the High Priest would not speak to him. It would have been easier. Below him, the crowd anxiously awaited. The man waited on the altar; serene and patient. Lotor had hoped he was doing so because he believed he was about to enter Paradise; serving Batak for eternity. Instead, Lotor sensed resignation.

"We met you on the morning of the Festival of Kitor. I consecrated you to Batak, remember?" The High Priest said casually as Lotor checked the blade. He wanted it to be one fast, clean cut. Up until the time Lotor was seven; he had watched his father do it. He always made swift work; his skill honed on the battlefields of his youth. His men, however, born in a later era where fighting was done more from the air than the ground had made a butchery of it. Lotor would not be so cruel.

"You are the only I have seen since leaving the Holy of Holies. Do you want to know what I saw? Why I must die?" The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "I had waited my whole life to see it."

"Silence. You are committing sacrilege." Lotor wispered back.

"A mere boy is going to tell me, the High Priest of Batak, what sacrilege is?" The Priest laughed. "Do you know I have never left this complex. Since practically my conception I have spent my life in devotion to the gods, and not once, did a god ever speak to me. Not even when I drank the Wine of Clarity. And yet, they spoke to my executioner. According to my priestess, you had quite a little interaction with Lord Tavor. I am almost jealous. It would have given me something to hope for."

"You are a righteous man. The gods will have a place for you." Lotor said.

"Again, you try to play the role of the priest. You are a consecrated warmaster. It is laughable." The man mused. "Perhaps, you should be on this table not me, you certainly deserve it more. But then again, as the Crown Prince of Doom you will be asked to sacrifice your soul. So, in the end, we will both die so that Korrinoth can maintain its precarious social order. I will for its spiritual angst; and you so our people can turn a blind eye to how their material wealth is acquired. I would be curious to know how you feel when that knife slits my throat and you feel my life ebb away. Will yours sins feel less weighty?"

"No, Your Excellency. They will not." The man heard the metal slide against the sharpening stone, Lotor making sure every nick in the metal had been smoothed.

"There was nothing there. Just some outline sketches of a painting that was never done. As usual, Korrinoth was an afterthought." The man had a sad smile on his face. "All my life I was told that I would see the most beautiful thing I could every imagine and all I saw were grey and black stones."

"You just described Korrinoth." Lotor said as he reached around, feeling for the man's carteroid wanted it to be painless. "There are times, I am sure it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It is a pity that you have never seen the lightening storms of Gershon. Then you would know that our world is truly a masterpiece."

"A Drule who understands pity is about to kill me; there is some sort of irony to that." The man sighed and muttered a final prayer to himself. He looked at Lotor one last time and smiled. "Not that it matters, because the gods do not exist, but I forgive you. You do know that." The man softly said. Lotor had to steady his hand; the man's words causing him to tremble.

"I certainly hope you speak the truth." He whispered. "For if they do, I certainly am going to Hell." With a quick slice, the man fell on the altar; his blood running down into the carved stone troughs. It was pooling into a carved basin. Soon, the High Priestess would collect it, and in another ceremony, the next High Priest would drink it in hopes of infusing a part of the sacrificed priest's soul into his own. Lotor shook his head. This had nothing to do with the Batak cult; it had been part of a left over religious beliefs of the original Korronites. He had learned all of this at the Academy. The Wyverns adopted it as to make their own religious beliefs more palatable to the primitive savages that they wanted to control. The man died for nothing, and Lotor looking down at the body, also felt nothing. Charak, he mused, had done his job well.

Lotor heard the crowd roar up. For the devout, it may have been some religious ecstasy nut for most Drules the sight of blood, even knowing it had been drawn could get their blood pumping. There was no requirement that made one watch this, yet before him, the complex was packed. Lotor knew it held 50,000 easily. He bowed to his people and made his way out the door. A carriage was waiting. He rarely liked to travel in them but it was the only mode of transportation allowed in and out of the complex.

Lotor was in a concilliatory mood when he went looking for his father; the days events making him long for something to connect to. He went to the Castle looking for him but Botak said he was away. He had business on Demos, Lotor shook his head. On the holiest day of the year, his father was conducting business as usual. His father's atheism was a well known fact, but still he could show some reverence to his people. Lotor made his way down to the kitchen, filling his stomach with every imaginable meat until it ached. His bags, he was assured, were waiting on the transport. In a few days, he would be back on Drule, and hopefully back in Sharra's bed putting the day's events behind him.

"Is he gone?" A raspy voice called out.

"Yes, Sire. He left an hour ago." Borak softly said.

"Did he do a good job?" Was he swift, one cut?" Borak walked over and leaned down to answer his king.

"He was perfect." He watched a smile cross the Great King's lips.

"He is a good son when he wants to be. He could make an excellent king." Zarkon rolled over and called the doctors to change his bandages. The whips were not made with lazon and his bandages bled through again.

"If you keep putting yourself through this ever year, he will be king sooner than later. He is not ready for such a responsibility yet. He is only a boy." Borak said.

"Borak, open your eyes. Your little boy just killed the High Priest of Doom. He is no longer a child." Zarkon said. "My son is a warmaster."


	12. Chapter 12

The Comforts of Home

Lotor waited impatiently for the concierge to ring. The apartment was far more modest than his was but it had an understated elegance. He had wine and food waiting but he was careful to limit the amount; his hunger was for something else. Finally, Sharra arrived. He was hovering around the door excited for the ring of the bell; full of anticipation for her reaction both to him and her new residence. It had been thirty days since he had last sunk himself into a woman's flesh, and he was beyond his breaking point. Sharra must have stopped off at the barracks before she had come to see him. She took off her cloak to reveal a very short fitting, black dress that perfectly complimented her dark hair and red hued eyes. He did not even give her a chance to greet him before his mouth was all over hers and his hands were pushing up the dress. It was only with very firm hands that she was able to get his under control. He groaned when she pushed them away.

"I am happy to see you too." Sharra said as she looked around. She was quite aware of his arousal and he was annoyed that she had decided to play the tease at this moment. She slid on the couch and poured herself a glass of wine. That pleased him; he was hoping she would be more submissive this time. There were certain aspects of her lovemaking that did not please her; though she was exciting to bed, she was a little too dominant. He did not appreciate the teeth marks and the attention they brought after their last encounter. Even one day of the lewd glances had been enough to make him rethink their relationship. He was the one who needed to be in control.

"Do you like the apartment?" He said, trying to compose himself. His tented pants made his arousal more than clear and Sharra had a bemused smile on her face as she sipped the wine.

"Yes, whose is it?" She said, in a not so interested tone. He was quite aware that she had come here for the same purpose as he did; though he feared she wanted more. Most women, he was beginning to discover, whether they would admit it or not, were rarely in a relationship just for the _recreation_. He had learned that hard way on the _Kiros _when some of his encounters wanted to somehow continue those dangerous relationships. Much to Horan's disappointment Lotor, for the most part, had stopped that risky behavior and replaced it with visiting brothels while on shore leave. Still, there were dangers to be had there and there were reasons behind the old saying that it was best to keep sex in the barracks, and not on the brothels. Lotor, his Korrinite heritage aside, was not that enthusiastic about that particular form of male bonding. A mistress seemed like the perfect solution.

Lotor handed her a box. She opened it up to find a card key. "It is yours." He enjoyed how she stared in disbelief. He was not one for giving gifts; Borak was perhaps the only exception. His father needed nothing from him. He had given Gavin a decent set of swords but his father had given the boy a more resplendent set during the Festival of Kitor. He had been sure it was done to one up him. His father seemed to exert a great deal of influence on his friend. He wondered which poor soul in his father's bureaucracy was the one responsible for tracking his expenses. He chuckled at the thought of some underling handing his father a monthly report. He would have loved to know what columns some of his purchases fell into. He was not totally stupid, he had started to withdraw larger sums of cash but things like an apartment had to be registered. His father had not said much more about this particular purchase. In fact, the idea seemed to please him.

"This was unexpected. Carris I do not know how you can afford this. I will not be involved in anything illegal." He had not even considered the possibility that she would be thinking that he obtained the apartment through illegal means. But there was something else holding her back, he could sense that. The apartment did not register the surprise that he thought it would. Instead, he sensed that she was frustrated and maybe even annoyed at him. "And in no way would I ever consider living with you." Lotor chuckled at that one. He never would have even permitted that sort of relationship. Warmasters, in general, kept their own quarters. Women, he was trained to believes, were for sex and babies; one not necessarily leading to the other.

"My King is generous. And for the other thing, I was not planning on living with you. Warmasters, as a rule, live by themselves. I have my own apartment in the city. This one is yours with no strings attached. It is just a gift. Do not read anything more into it." He sighed as he pushed the card into her hand. "There is a flyer in the carport and a bank account has been set up for expenditures."

"Your gift makes no sense." She said as he moved in close.

"Those are the best kind. Still, your gratitude would be appreciated and noted, though not required." He sat down next to her. He poured himself a glass of wine. "Sharra, I will be gone in a couple of months. We are only just friends." Lotor said as he placed his hand on her knee.

"So that means we skip the _recreation_? " Her ruby eyes stared at him and he smiled.

"Your friendship means more, but I would be lying if I said I do not want you." He purred into her ear.

"Carris, why should I believe anything you say? Right now you are lying to me." She caught her breath as he was doing more than nuzzling her. Her words gave him pause and he looked up.

"The deed, the flyers activation codes, the bank passwords are all in that drawer. You can check if you want. It is all yours." He murmured as his began to wander up her legs. He was desperate to have her again.

Sharra laid back and took one last sip of her wine as he went to work. Her hands much preferring the feel of his silk locks as she pushed him in deeper. She was already thinking of sinking her teeth into that gorgeous neck and clawing his back as he petted her; trying to remove her stockings and thong. She held his hands and looked straight at him.

"Carris, I have given you several chances to tell the truth to me tonight. Is this how we are going to start off, with lies and deception?" He turned around and looked at her.

"How have I lied?" He said.

"Skath was at the Court several weeks ago. He paid me a visit." Sharra answered. "He told me who you were."

"Really? Did he tell you before or after you took _recreation_ with him?" Lotor, said, with one eyebrow arched.

"I was in season. I do not know why you are so angry. You did not claim to want a relationship with me. I offered to go away with you, but you turned me down. Furthermore, you implied you did not care." She huffed back. He was hoping some other words would have come out of her mouth. He had been more than willing to accept a lie. "Should I have suffered pining away because I could find no one for a true mating?"

"Look where that got Katte. I have, perhaps you should all try it sometimes. I have never mated with anyone even though I have had plenty of opportunity. It should not be done as if your partner is a dog in heat. We have hopefully evolved to be more than that." He looked at her angrily. " You always said you did not like him, but you spread your legs whenever he comes around. I thought it was finished between you two." He stiffened and pulled away from her. "Who you _fuck_ is your business. In fact, I encourage you to see other people."

Lotor looked away trying to hide his hurt. Whatever chance they had of making a go at it had just died, Sharra was too much of a hedonist to make a proper wife. He had been so lonely when he had looked her up; sure that she was the one person he could count on. He had thought she was joking with him when he had said that she might take up with someone else when he was gone. His words had been just a test; one he was hoping she would pass. As much as the Arusian had given him pause, he knew that the sunny haired girl was just a fantasy best forgotten. He had not even initiated the kisses that they had shared between them and felt ashamed of his weakness for her when they were through. For all he had claimed he just wanted _recreation_, he was starving for more. He had remembered Yorak's words. Sharra had liked him for him and now Skath ruined it on many levels.

Lotor would never know if she was here for him or because of his position; another pretty woman trying to climb the social ladder by entrapping a higher up. Perhaps that is what fueled that amazing weekend; she had made love like a possessed demon or a fallen angel. He had been entranced. Why, after all, did she choose to sleep with Skath again if it was not for gain; the season excuse being to pat. One could lock themselves away at a barrack. There were drugs to lessen the desire. No, she was Katte all over again or she did not have enough discipline. Either way, he could never take her as a wife.

Deep down, he did not blame her. They did not date like the humans did. Either biology or the elders chose ones mates; one almost knowing instantly if a partner was suitable. He had been undecided with Sharra. One part sensed her devotion, he dare say love, for him and another saw a woman driven by carnal pleasure. He was not sure who he wanted, or if any of these Sharras were suitable for him. All he knew was that when she was on top of him he would have said and promised almost anything. He bit his tongue when he wanted to tell her he loved her; for it would have been a lie. He was in lust. He thought that this arrangement might help him answer the question. The initial want would subside and he could think clearer. And for a moment, Lotor thought Sharra might be the one. His father would need some convincing, but it could have happened. She was smart and level headed. She came from a solid military background and his father, more than alliance, was determined to leave heirs that could keep his kingdom together. Nobility, though desired, was not necessarily a requirement.

Still, he was disappointed. The evening, which should have been memorable, was ended quickly with him calling for a car. He did not yell or threaten, he just left. He had not decided how he was going to proceed; or even if he still wanted this or she him. He just knew he had to get out of there. He decided to head to one of his favorite clubs where strong wines, and women if he so desired, were available. He had gone too long without. He sat back, his head against the cool leather upholstery, and broke out into a deep laughter. The driver must of thought him insane or already inebriated.

Lotor, however was thinking about Shakespeare of all things, laughing at how short the Drule courtship was compared to humans. Theirs lasted hours, maybe days at most, while the humans sometimes took years to settle on their partners. Sometimes this urge to bond with someone was so strong it was confused with a _lotor_, though the obsession of the latter could destroy a person's life. Usually, if a potential mate rejected a suitor, another could be found easily. With a _lotor_ there was no cure but to either be with them or one of you would face total devastation. Drules were not an original lot. There were only three things to consider when choosing a mater; were they attractive; would your elders approve; and last but not least, what side of the bed did they sleep on.

Coupling was rather a new concept to the Drules. They had only partaken in it around 15,000 years. Drules met, they mated, and for the most part led rather monogamous lives bedding down the occasional whore or slave when variety demanded it. This applied to both the men and women; though one reserved oneself for mating only with your life partner. It was an emotional thing, for the males in particular. It was said that the Wyvern injected genes to make it so in order to settle the Drule male down s he would stay and protect his mate and young. Children were another matter, and most male Drules obsessed over producing them. Even the males, who in the end preferred other males, usually procured a female partner solely for that purpose; the smell of estrogen being enough of an aphrodisiac to seal the deal. Drule marriages, for the most part, were not romantic ones. Sex and companionship was the most one could hope for.

For the most part, the Drules did not reproduce as much as the humans did; so they started much earlier. Too many races, more like species, were in the widely mixed genome of the Drules so pregnancy rarely occurred and when it did, there were usually a fair number of miscarriages before a child was brought to term. Sometimes a couple, like Borak and Driedel lucked out, but it was more often the other scenario. A few groups of Drules, like the warmasters, were encouraged to take harems in hopes of producing a greater percentage of young. Even that had its problems as free Drules were not allowed to be in harems, which only exasperated the genetic problems of the children's mixed heritage. Human hybrids, like Lotor, were becoming more numerous in the harems; Lotor being one of the first.

Before that, Westerners had been a popular warmaster choice, as the women were mostly of High Drule descent and looked close enough to one of the hardier stocks to mate with; the only complaint being their thin, lithe bodies. One also did not know if there was Wyvern in the mix since they were their favorite species to experiment on, and when the mood struck those hideous things, mate with. Both the Wyvern Demon Prince and Empress Jain IX, were all part of that tradition. Some men found the large pinnacled ears attractive, just touching them could make a High Drule beg one's bed, but after the war ended they were off limits. Even now, the few that remained enslaved were highly sought after as pleasure slaves; and especially bred for that purpose. Many a time, when Lotor was out of uniform, both men and women had approached him hoping to discover who his master was in order to request a turn with him. Even some of the officers and court officials had begged his bed much to his dismay. He was not offended; but to say yes under such circumstances was considered an act of submission. Once the offer was broached in that matter, no matter how desirable the person was; it had to be rejected. He was not a pleasure slave. They would have to look at his exotic, almost fetishized beauty, from afar.

The humans, though plentiful to procure as slaves, had their own problems. The children produced were lovelier to look at than anything else, they had little military potential. Rarely was a child produced that possessed both the cognitive power of the Drule or the creativity of the humans, usually one dominated or both suffered. Lotor wondered if the children suffered because they were raised under the Drule regime which would have basically killed off the creativity in just about anyone. Sometimes, both were retained, but these children were few and far between.

His sister, though brilliant, was the perfect example of this. She lacked any original insight on her own. She was no Althea Carris, but a Drule through and through. This was the woman who ordered her husband's children from his harem executed as a condition of their marriage after he had fallen madly in love with her. They could have easily been dispersed of in a more humane manner. They were no threat anymore. Dharlock had been one of the greatest Imperil magistrates; the open throne gifted to him by the Emperor after the warmasters spent fifteen years fighting over it. His father's kingdom, being in such close proximity, was instrumental in Dharlock's ascension to the throne. His father's warmasters made quick work of settling the dispute. Unfortunately, the Tenth Kingdom suddenly had a dearth of warmasters after Zarkon's brutes swept in; Dharlock though dangerous in his own way began to rely on Zarkon's protection.

Regardless, those children could have easily been trained and sent to work for the Emperor. The Imperials whole bureaucracy was staffed by disenfranchised royalty loyal not to the monarchs that had basically exiled them but to the Imperials. The warmasters, for the most part, rid themselves of their extra sons in this manner. In that particular caste, children thought to be genetically weak and inferior were allowed to be executed soon after birth. The practice was more talked about than actually done; but it was rumored that when Zarkon saw how small Lotor was he thought about it. In reality, it had only been just that. Zarkon, seeing that head of hair, was actually thrilled at the child's birth. It was only later on, when he started to truly comprehend some of his visions, that snuffing Lotor's life out seemed a good idea. Lotor did not know why his father, at times, wanted him dead. But he knew, that the Great King would not mourn him terribly,

The feeling that his father wanted him out of the way had only increased during their last few visits. He was surprised that his father and the witch decided to hide his drug addiction from Hazar; it would have been the prefect opportunity to get rid of him. All he had to do was report his son as drug addicted to Hazar and an execution would have surely followed. Other times, he thought his father was proud to have him as his son. The man seemed to know not his mind when it came to Lotor, which made him even more fearful. This fear, the one that his father would try to have him assassinated or killed on trumped up charges, began to grow in him. Lotor was already thinking it would not be so bad if the old man disappeared and left him the throne. He laughed as this thought crossed his mind. He had too much time on his hands and the Drule Imperial Court, with all of its courtiers day to day plotting, they started to plant the seeds of dissent in his head.

It did not have to be this way. Lotor worked hard to be the perfect Drule; far more brutal than most of them. On the _Kiros, _only Hazar could match his ruthlessness. Hazar found him useful. Lotor was sure he knew about his addiction problem; Zandu was fast to report him for anything. Yet, Hazar said nothing and turned a blind eye. Lotor was very functional and that is all that seemed to matter. He did not want to kill off his favorite assassin and logistics officer. Lotor wanted to think that he had matured as a Drule, and more specifically as a Drule warmaster. He was no longer the little boy who was devastated by his mother and Allura's deaths at the hands of the Great King, he had rationalized his mother's murder under the code he had been brought up with. And as for Allura's death, though just if not more painful than his mother's, he saw it in context of his father's policy of total warfare. The Arusians could not have a symbol to gather around and give resistance to the Ninth Kingdom. He did not forgive his father for his actions, but at least he was now capable of storing his emotions to dissect during meditation and not lash out in the heat of the moment. He could deal with his men dying on the battlefield because the Empire told them their sacrifice was necessary to maintain hegemony, even if the planet seemingly had no value. He could even bring up his training with Charak to deal with the seemingly endless executions he was asked to perform; the soldiers in question had violated some law that made the subject to the harsh military penal code. He was perplexed to why it seemed that this particular duty had fallen more and more on him than the other warmasters under Hazar's command, but if the order came down he could not question it. It was essential to keep order on the gigantic carrier; ten thousand souls were at stake.

For the most part, he kept all of this under wraps; locking up all of his compartments tight. But it was not foolproof, it was a brain not a vault and sometimes, especially at night, these things escaped his control. The pills made him comfortably numb and usually kept his disturbing dreams at bay. He knew he could easily replace them all by drinking that horrid brew that Haggar had given him, but he was in no rush. He would save if for when he returned to the _Kiros. _He wanted calm and all it brought was rage. He had even given the drink a name; he called it his Mean Potion.

His emotions were still fragile in parts and there were occasions when he lost discipline; but each year they grew fewer and fewer. This evening was a perfect example. He had put his disappointment in Sharra away. A younger Lotor would have probably forced her to submit tonight in retaliation to his perceived betrayal. She could have brought him up on charges of assault; but worst of all it could of ended their friendship forever

Her words that evening had given him a moment to pause. The conversation was still burning in his mind. She looked so enticing in that dress; her legs seemed to go forever. Her hair was piled up high, exposing a neck that begged to be licked and maybe nibbled on. Her sweet voice was playing with his lust racked body.

"We could be exclusive. All you have to do is ask?" A part of him wanted to say yes.

"I should not have had to." He walked over and kissed her. "It is alright. I understand Hybrids are better for pleasure than the marriage bed,or so that is what I hear." He murmured. He was shocked that he had even brought up the marriage word; cursing himself that it was ingrained in his subconscious.

"Carris, do not be like this. I am sorry if I hurt you." Sharra pleaded to him as he straightened out his cloak.

"You can stop calling me Carris. As you already know, my name is Lotor, born of the Houses of Daibaza'al and Carris. I am the Crown Prince of Korrinoth, sole heir to Zarkon, the Demon King, and under the Laws of the Drule Empire, an _Imperial _Prince. I assure you it impossible for you to hurt me." Of course, it was a lie. He was sulking when he pulled away from her and dialed the car. He caught himself in the mirror and saw a little boy looking back and did his best to keep the tears from falling. Lotor waited outside the building, taking deep gasps for air, desperate for his escape. He felt betrayed and humiliated. He laughed, for all of the grand titles he had just given her, he would always be Carris. He was the lonely cadet that no one took the time out to befriend. At Court there was no one. He was just a plaything to the beautiful daughters of the nobles. Horan was friendly enough if he could procure him women and Gavin, well he was confused where they stood. They were always competing; for jobs, for honors and even his father's affection. He was having a sibling rivalry with a man who he was not even related to.

Lotor slid in and threw his head back against the upholstery after giving the driver his destination. Sharra, in that short ride, was shoved into one of those tidy compartments he kept in the back of his head. His only regret was that he still longed for her bed. His hand was absentmindedly touching his neck. What woman would have even thought to do that to a man, and why did he not stop her? The same woman, he thought ruefully, that had made him run out and buy an apartment after in a three day hotel romp. She was an incredible partner in bed, the best he had ever had, and he wondered if he could salvage the situation. For a moment he had to laugh at himself. At times he was such a needy thing. He desperately wanted someone to care for, and in turn, be cared for. He thought about how he had so foolishly been willing to marry Katte when he was at the Academy; thinking he would die if she became another's. She did and he was happier for it.

Deep down, he knew he was looking at Sharra as a potential mate. He had not bought that apartment as lightly as he had pretended to and a part of him wanted to play house. Sharra was perhaps not the best choice in this. He could not imagine her cooking an egg; let alone a meal. He shook his head when he compared her to the Arusian who could only muster up an inept hand job and a few chaste kisses. Yet, she would have been a far more desirable prize. From the moment he saw her, the way she walked and moved, he knew she must have been of royal birth. Her bearing was no less than a princess. He was curious to why she was living on the property. Perhaps she had been a cousin to Allura; the resemblance had been remarkable. Allura's hair was much lighter, but the skins, the eyes, the lips all were the same. The only thing that really differed was the heartbeat; but Allura's was that of a child and in his arms he had held a woman. The kiss was also different. The innocent bliss had been replaced by an almost illicit thrill; she knew she should not have kissed him that day. He was forbidden which made it all that much sweeter.

He was ashamed to admit, while on the transport, he spent as much time fantasizing over those brief interludes than the sexual predator he had just left. He had pleasured himself while thinking about that young woman, who was hardly more than a child. This was accompanied by much guilt, as the sting on the priestess's whip was still on his back along with the words of her admonishment that rang in his ears. He was committing a grievous breach of discipline by desiring the young woman; the priestess warning him that she was an object of cursed beauty that he should not want or lust for. For once, his father would have probably given him the same advice as a religious advisor.

The driver found the club. Lotor found what he wanted inside. He ignored the pills for the first two weeks, but his body was tired of self-denial and it was most in need of sex rather than comfort. He would have liked to take a blond human to bed; but they were not to be found easily in this part of the Empire. He was sure with some effort he could find one; it was the capitol after all. Instead he settled on a Drule that had dark hair and long legs. Her body, though well tones, was not Sharra's. He was not gentle with her; taking out his frustrations on her, and sadly mourning the fact that she did not sink her teeth and claws into his body. He had started out the evening in hopes of reliving the magic of their first encounter. He wanted ecstasy and all he found was relief.

For a week he ignored Sharra's calls. He comforted himself with the endless entertainment at the Imperial Court. There was always a nobleman's daughter that did not mind a brief encounter with a handsome young officer; though nothing serious occurred there were a few gropes and kisses in darkened corners. Finally, he relented and he ans Sharra resumed their ill fated affair. Sharra was now the one trying to repair the damage. It felt good to be back in control to some degree, even though she still seemed to be the master of their bed. Even though the magic of their first time together was gone, he would not complain. He still had to bear the taunts and the overtly sexual innuendos from some of the senior officers, certain some of them would have liked to engage in what the Imperials viewed as male bonding. Again, he laughed, for it was supposedly the Korrinite males that were so gung ho but it always seemed it was another Drule who initiated the encounters. Lotor had never been that interested; again wondering if his preferences were dictated by his human mother or his Wyvern blood. At times, he was so not a Drule. And as for Sharra, he would have been happier had he never propositioned her and they had just remained friends. But the deed was done, and if she wanted to exhaust him well that was her business. He would occasionally have to remind her that the apartment came with no strings attached for either of them, but for now, he was content to let sleeping dogs lie.

The daily routine of Court life grew wearisome and Lotor was glad when he was sent back home to plead the Emperor's case. His father relented a little and increased the number of men he sent to the Imperial war machine. The Emperor, gladdened, let him extend his visit. Zarkon decided it was time to formally introduce his available son to the Drule nobility. Lotor groaned at the notion; knowing his father had one particular lady that he fancied for his son, Queen Merla of the Seventh Kingdom

Queen Merla was definitely something to behold. Over the years, he had seen her during court visits, both officials and unofficial. The Seventh and the Ninth Kingdoms agendas were politically aligned, and with Dharlock in his back pocket, they had become a strong voting block on the Council. It was no secret that his father had hoped to make the political alliance more secure by offering Lotor up in the negotiations. The last time he had seen her he was a gangly teenager and she had not interest in him. He, however, had viewed her differently. He would have lied if he had said she was unattractive. She was a shapely woman and dressed to emphasis it. When not in formal gowns she was usually clad in a black leather bustier and matching tight fitting leather pants; exposing a taunt stomach. She had a bad habit of carrying a filthy vulture with her; and he had a disturbing image of the damn bird, leaving pellets all over his bedroom which caused him to cringe.

Merla was a several years older than Lotor, and there was an undeniable sensuality about her that the girls in the Academy lacked. But, in the end he proved intimidated by her actions and her words. First, and foremost, her romantic interest seemed more focused on his father. He was certain that she had tried to win the old man's affections. Secondly, she was always degrading him in some fashion referring to him as "our little princeling" with Zarkon's approval. He could not be sure, but he felt like she was trying to manipulate him. He had strange thoughts when he was around her and he did his best to block them out. He found her to be cold, calculating and manipulative. In essence, Zarkon's perfect mate.

There were two types of events in his father's courts; ones that were meant for the Imperials and the others that were meant for his warmasters. After Althea Carris died; the second became far more prominent. It almost seemed odd to have a pleasant, unhurried ball being offered up in the Great Hall. It was usually a place reserved for unbridled lust; be it for sex or blood. Lotor could barely focus on the faces before him. If he turned one way or the other; his thoughts would go back to an atrocity that took place in this corner or that. Image after image of women and men being defiled to his father's warmasters amusements, or even worse, blood being spilled, filled this cavernous room; leaving him with an odd sensation of both excitement and disgust. Now, he had to transpose this gentle image on top of all the madness – his mind stretching to do so.

Merla was there, and as usual, paying rapt attention to his father wherever he went. His father seemed to be amused by her attentions and Lotor wondered how far their little flirtations went. Right now, she was behind Zarkon on the dais, looking totally at ease as she massaged his neck shoulders. Lotor saw a hint of lust in his father's eyes as the woman touched him. His father seemed intent on rebuilding a harem of late; something having changed within him since the Festival of Kitor. Lotor noted with some amusement that Althea's flowers seemed to be all over the place; unsure to what the connection was. His father, who had shunned the bed of any woman, was in full gear again. This was an unwelcome event as Lotor did not even want even the slightest chance of another heir being accidentally created. He already had four nephews waiting in the wings if something was to befall him. The feeling was only intensified, when he ran into Merla coming out of his father's rooms early in the morning. Her hair was down and her neck was covered the bite marks.

Lotor controlled the growl that wanted to emerge and instead offered a smile.

"Why go for the pick of the litter, when you can have the sire? Are all the stories I hear about your conquests true? Is no one safe from the lovely clutches of Merla. " Merla was not rattled at all; though even Lotor could tell that she did not appreciate being caught by him.

"A child produced by your father and I would have quite a kingdom to rule." Merla said, her voice reeking in confidence that they produced a child. Lotor shrugged.

"Let us say you caught, unlikely knowing my father's track record, but possible." Lotor gave her a smug smile. "If it is a girl she will not be Queen of Doom unless there are no male challengers. I am counting five that I can think of. Father might change the Law of Succession; it is his right but by the time he gets around to it I will challenge him to the Arena. I still do not think I can take him; but it is getting close. I am getting faster every day, and he is getting slower."

"Lotor, let us not be so harsh with each other. I might become your new stepmother." Merla began to speak softly. She reached over to touch him. He wanted to move away but felt himself stick in place. She came closer, and though he was disgusted at the thought she wanted to touch him after her hands had been all over him, she forced him to kiss her. "Your father still wants to make me your bride. This is all just part of the negotiations. Who knows, one day you might be half the statesman as you father was. You know for an old man he was pretty good." Lotor cringed as she thoroughly inspected the merchandise. His hands also seemed frozen as she explored his body, "Unlike you, he has muscles in all the right places. He was right, you are underfed." She motioned him to follow him to his old chambers where his bed, slept in the night before, was neatly made up. "He told me that you did not like anything out of place; it can be annoying at times."

"Merla, what do you want?" She laughed.

"Queen Merla, are we forgetting our manners. I do outrank you." Her fingers started coursing through his hair. She watched with interests as the slit in his gold eyes began to narrow. "Trust me, my little princeling." He did not know how but he felt like he was being forced back into his own bed and then, he found himself kissing her; the disgust building in his stomach and throat until he began to wretch. She broke away just in time; glaring at him. The thought of him having sex with her, knowing that she had just been with his father, had been overwhelming. His need to feel in control was far more powerful than whatever black magic she was pulling. He called up housekeeping; almost apologetic for the mess. Angry, he would have to hit the showers again. He was on a tight schedule that day.

Merla did not seem more upset that her powers had failed her than anything else. She stormed out of the room and he lay against his bed and shook his head. He was going to make it a point always to sleep at his private residence. He had slept there the night before because he wanted to fight in the Arena with some robeasts that morning and did not want to waste time going back and forth to the Keep. He did not have much time left and he was planning on a trip to Arus that afternoon. This time he was leaving his flyer at home. He had already ordered up a fast transport laden with goods. It was rude to visit without offering a gift to one's host.

He was going to the Carris estate. He watched the woman slowly approach him as he waved his white flag; her blaster level with his chest. This time, she had the perfect shot.

"Drule, it is not the right time of year for roses." He laughed. It was autumn now and the trees were starting turn into a multi-colored tapestry.

"I have not had an apple in years. Can I trade for one of them?" He said.

"Are you some sort of Drule scientist? Is this some sort of psychological experiment you are doing on the survivors of your attacks? She lowered the gun a bit.

"Just came for an apple: It is that time of year. It is the only fruit I can barely tolerate, the sour ones are the best if you have one." She nodded.

"And what are you trading it for? Food does not come easy here." He opened up the transport. It was stacked with a couple of rifles, canned goods, heaters, seeds and several bars of high quality lazon. He also had in his possession a purse full of gold coins, no imprint. He dangled it in front of her.

"All for an apple?" She said.

"I have one more thing to ask. It is a small thing." He looked at the girl and tilted her head. He took one step forward.

"Oh no. I am not having sex with you. It is bad enough that you are always staring at me with those scary yellow eyes." She put her blaster back up.

"You really have to talk to someone about this Drule sex fantasy. I assure you that I am not the least bit interested. If I wanted you like that, I would have had you already." She lowered the blaster.

"So you are telling me that you are incapable of raping human females?" She gace him an odd look. He knew his fathers' men had used this world as their personal playground, taking whatever and whoever they wanted.

He sighed. "I am a Drule. I am capable of about most anything, but today I am not raping, murdering, or pillaging. I have come to trade; that is what a Carris does. You trade." He had a big smile on his face.

"And what could you possibly want from me? Our situation has not changed. There are no valuables to exchange anything for?" She said as she eyed the goods and the rifles. "We have nothing...not even enough to keep from starving this winter."

"Value is not always determined by the seller. Perhaps you have something so rare that I have no choice but to pay a ridiculously high price. Perhaps, you do not have this thing. Then we will have to figure out something else to trade for." For fun, he finally did give out a wicked smirk in oeder to spook her. The girl looked at him strangely as if she recognized something.

"Do that again." She demanded. He did not know what she wanted him to do, the smile coming naturally.

"Smile. Just like you did." He repeated the facial movement.

"What do you want?" The woman was the one staring. It made him uncomfortable.

"A picture, if there is one in there. A picture of the other Althea Carris." The woman started to walk back to the house, motioning him to come.

"And why would a Drule come looking for that. First her roses and now her picture. You Drules seemed to have a fixation on a woman long dead." The words pained him when she said them. "My grandfather missed her horribly." She brought him into a room that had seen better days. It had been once grand library. She took him over to the wall where they stood in front of a painting of an Arusian male. For the most part, save for the coloring, the ears and the eyes, Lotor was looking at himself in the painting. The chin, the mouth, the nose and the forehead were his.

"You look like a Carris. I was too focused on your eyes, the color of your skin. I did not look at the rest of you." Tears were in her eyes. "Tell me, I am not the last."

"You are not." He softly said. He was already regretting coming back. The girl was perhaps 15 or 16. When they first met, he thought she was older but she was just very tall for her age. Her height was such that she would be giving a Drule female a run for their money.

"My aunt? Where is she?" Lotor grabbed her hands. The girl was jumping up and down excitedly; the two servants who had stayed in the shadows stepped out. They were older and Lotor wondered if they had known Althea Carris.

"She is no longer in this realm." Lotor swallowed hard.

"Oh, that is unfortunate I had just heard the wildest stories about her. My grandfather never got over losing her. He would point to the heavens and say she was his shining star. He cursed himself for trying to force her to marry into the Talberts. She left after that with another trader. It was very romantic." She sighed.

"No, it was foolish. Space is a dangerous place." He muttered.

"As if Arus is any safer." She spat out. "This world is a dath trap. I would give anything to leave here."

He smiled. She did have a good point. "I am almost tempted to take you back to Korrinoth. Arus is not a safe place. You are becoming a woman and the Drule patrols will eventually notice this."

"Is it safe there?" The girl looked worn out.

"I do not know, Your name alone could bring you trouble." He looked at the girl and wondered what to do. What kind of life was this? Could he offer her anything better on Doom? She brought him a picture of Althea Carris, forever nineteen and ready to take on the Universe. "And what about them?" He pointed to her two servants. She shrugged.

"We could take them as sertvants or leave them here...it is your choice." She walked over to them and a aheated argument ensued. THey did not wnat to go to Doom ans she did not want to remain on Arus. He heard her arguments about the lack of food and medical care. Last year, they had lost four members of the household. She was tired of being the one who had to do everything while they cowered. Lotor smiled when she walked over.

"You should be educated. You should be taken care of. I could take care of you. You need to come up with a new name though." Lotor smiled.

"You want me to lie." He said, almost bristling at the suggestion.

"_Shoshi_, everyone lies on Doom." He laughed as he took her arm. The servants protested but he told them to be silent. Althea Carris smiled as she walked to the transport.

"What is your name?" She said as she walked towards the transport. He was impressed at her fearlessness. It had to be a family trait. The servants were trailing behind and wailing for her to return. He unloaded the rest of the goods, save the rifles. Althea was glad that they would not starve that winter. As far as the rifles went, Lotor was sure that they would not even know what to do with them since they kept sending out a girl to ward off interlopers. Their eyes lit up when they saw the lazon. There was always a market for that.

"My name is Lotor. You can call me Lotor." He said as he leaned back into the pilot's seat. She took the empty co-pilot's seat next to him. She was amazed how quiet the engine was as they lifted off. Althea asked him to teach her to fly. He laughed; they had plenty of time for those things. First, he said, they needed a name.

"How about Fia?" I saw it once in a book. She was a pirate queen," He chuckled. It fit her as much as anything else.

"How does it feel to be a member of a harem?" The look on her face turned white. His deep laughter came out of nowhere. "Relax, I have to hide you out somehow. My father will be pleased. He thinks it is very un-Drule of me not to have one." Lotor was already coming up with a plan. He would send out Garroth to build him an all blond, human harem. It would be easier to hide the girl out there. His real fear was that she was turning into quite a beauty and he did not want Zarkon to take an interest in her. He would have to keep her separate from the other girls. He would have to hire tutors, dressmakers, and provide for entertainment so that she was not bored. And yes, he might even arrange flight lessons. After all, she was going to be his "favorite" and he would spare her nothing. Who knows, in time they could become true friends.

Althea Carris, she was your mother?" The young woman asked.

"Yes, she was. But it is a little late to ask that." He gave her a bemused look.

"She lived on Korrinoth." He could hear a little bit of fear in her voice.

"Better than that. She conquered it." His hand reached over and touched a stray golden strand. "We are going to jump soon. The first time can be very hard, sometimes it is easier to hold on to something." Althea grabbed his arm. Her excitement was infectious as he drove in the coordinates. "I think you will like my home. It just lacked that feminine touch."

"I do not think I will like living with a harem." She huffed back at him.

"Something tells me that they will feel the same way about you. I have a feeling you will keep them in line, after all, you are a Carris. We never give up." He softly said.

"Until we get what we want." She finished off his sentence; the most unforgettable smirk crossed her lips. He was insane for bringing her back, but even more so, for thinking that Zarkon would never notice her. He needed to come up with a plan.


	13. Chapter 13

The Harem Master

Garroth paced furiously up and down the middle of the room, pulling at his long black, hair. Lotor almost had to stifle a laugh; he was not used to seeing the always perfectly coiffed man in such a shambles. The man was the epitome of elegance and grace, capable of soothing aristocracy and whores alike. Truth be told, Lotor was enjoying this display, not particularly thrilled that the man had been called back to his father's palace of late. Somehow, the rebuilding of his father's harem, reminded him more and more of his mother's death. His father murdering her had been one thing...but to let these lesser women into his life, no matter what carnal need was fulfilled, was somehow sacrilege.

"Your Highness, you have gone mad." The man glared at him. "I am the keeper of many secrets, but this one is too much to bear."

"What secret are you referring to?" Lotor asked innocently. Garroth sighed.

"Do not take me for a fool, I have been doing this for what seems an eternity at times. She is from the Castor region, that of which I can guarantee." Lotor nodded in agreement. He had nothing to deny on that point.

"So, there is nothing unusual about that. I saw her and I wanted her. No law says a Drule cannot take an Arusian. They are legal game to acquire." Lotor grabbed an ottoman and pulled it up close. Garroth shook his head.

"The girl is a Carris. I know that facial structure anywhere. The man paused and grimaced. "Hell I am looking at it right now." Lotor tried to contain his smirk as he watched the man become more and more flustered.

"Why Garroth, that would be committing incest. How dare you accuse your prince of such an act? My request is simple. ..Can it be done? Or perhaps I should go to that rival of yours, what does he call himself...Telopis. I believe." Garroth grumbled as he looked at the smug prince.

"My Lord, Telopis will send you straight to the infirmary. If you are looking for the experience of pissing fire be my guest. I can get what you want...but it will take longer than a week." Garroth shot Lotor a defeated look.

"I only require a couple of girls for the moment. You can procure the majority of the compliment when I am away...it makes no mater to me. As for the girl, I want her trained properly. Like you did with my mother. I am looking for you to make her strong enough to survive my father's court." Lotor called a serving girl over who poured a glass of wine. She was dressed skimpily and he had already made plans to use her for the night.

"I did nothing of the sort, I just guided her. She was capable of taking on your father and his court from the moment her feet were dragged in. I just taught her the finer points to manipulating Drules, your father, in particular." Garroth had an odd smile on his face as if he has just shared an illicit secret.

"And why would a harem master do such a thing? You forget that your loyalty should remain with the client and not the merchandise." Lotor shot Garroth a look of concern.

"Not my habit, I assure you." Garroth gave an ingratiating smile as he smoothed his hair back into place. "But no one could refuse Althea Carris anything...she was bewitching when she wanted to be. It is no secret that I am an opportunist. When she first arrived, she had no idea that she was his _lotor_ or how much power it gave her, I enlightened her. Her effect on your father was preordained by the gods themselves. Having said all of that, she still intrigued me. The woman, who hated him the most, wanted him to fall passionately in love with her."

"That makes no sense." Lotor practically growled. He had never put Althea on a moral pedestal, even as a child he knew her to be flawed perfection, but still it hurt him to hear Garroth's words.

"Makes perfect sense. She was determined to survive Doom." Garroth practically snorted back at him.

"In the end, she did not. Nothing as beautiful as she was could have." Lotor mumbled.

"If you really believed that you would not have brought her look alike here." Garroth called the serving girl over to bring him a glass of wine. Her demure smile did nothing to entice him, few women could. There was nothing overtly special about the woman, only her youth masking for beauty. He knew his prince wanted better than a firm body and a woman with unyellowed teeth before his departure.

"Psssh. She is just a girl that amused me." Lotor looked up at Garroth, a hint of menace in his eye.

"Yes, my prince. I see amusement but no lust. How long do you think we can hide her from your father before he spots her? I assure you, she will not go unnoticed for long." Garroth said as he considered the vintage before him. Lotor watched as the man almost gingerly inhaled its fragrance...something he would have found to sweet had he done so. Lotor shook his head wondering what it must be like to so critically judge everything one's senses encountered and counted himself a lucky man not to have such a failing. "I am, however, impressed with your plan to hide her among a bevy of beauties. That is what we are doing...is it not? Best to admit that she is a relation, and therefore, he might view her untouchable."

"Do you think that would stop Zarkon?" Lotor sighed.

"Not really, she is your relation not his. Still, out of consideration for your dead mother he might relent. It would cause too much gossip in the court. She is a lovely creature, but looks aside, she is no Althea Carris." The man sighed and moved to leave. "Well, my prince, I must beg your leave as you have presented mw with an unusual assignment. I must say, for once you resemble your father, he also has exotic and exceptional taste in his women." At that remark, Lotor shot Garroth a look that was bordering on homicidal. Garroth shook his head.

"Prince, do not take offense at that statement. It was meant as a compliment. In the end, he possessed the finest jewel on Korrinoth." Garroth bowed deeply as he called the girl over to take his glass.

:And destroyed it." Lotor mumbled back.

"At a great cost to him, I assure you. A lesson best you might learn. These women I provide are more than mere toys for your amusement. A concept few warlords seem to grasp." Lotor noted the slight tinge of venom in the man's voice.

"Yet, you have no problem providing them to the highest bidder. Garroth, al of our hands are stained."

"Tell me, before you leave. What advice did you give Althea that caused him to install her into his chambers.. _Lotor_ alone would not have been enough to cause everything that to happen." Lotor had the girl pour him another glass.

"She managed that herself." Garroth paused and looked at Lotor and gave him a sad smile. "I do not think this knowledge would be helpful to you." Garroth looked at him uneasily. A smirk spread across Lotor's face.

"Humor me. As I have become older I have spent much time trying to dissect happened between them...but all I have to consider it with are the eyes of a child." Lotor leaned forward, intent on the words that came out of the man's mouth.

"They say that you can tell when a man is lying." Garroth said with a sigh followed by a nervous laugh." Do not repeat this to Zarkon, it is worth my head. "I told her to deny him what he wanted most...it was for her to figure out what that was. Your father only lusts for what he cannot have." Garroth shrugged, Lotor noticed the slight shift in his feet. The man would have been far more useful as an intelligence officer rather than the vile career he chose for himself. Lotor say Garroth as useful but thought little of him, he was a man who had no honor. A stink clung to him that no manner of expensive cologne could ever mask. Under the civility was a monster worse than his father.

Lotor looked at the man and wondered how many sordid plots he had insinuated himself into. He was a slick one with the ear of all his well placed girls. He knew all the secrets that his clients let out in the afterglow of passion as they tried to unburden their heavy hearts with some beloved whore they thought they somehow truly possessed because she came with a receipt. Garroth was always buzzing around someone's court...keeping a good eye on his girls. Lotor thought most of the aristocracy was a fool to employ him...but now, he was there bartering with the devil himself.

"It was bad advice in the end." Lotor sat back in his chair. "It may have been her undoing. You were correct. It has no value for me. There is nothing he wants from me." Lotor let out an insane, deep laugh causing Garroth to jump.

"My Lord, you are wrong. He wants the one thing you will never give him." Garroth said with a shrug.

"Enlighten me, and I'll double your fee. You, who are known to be such an excellent judge of the Drule psyche. Tell me that he is desperate for my love and I shall slay you on the spot. It would be a lie" Lotor said with a snort.

"No, that is not what he craves. He wants your forgiveness." Garroth walked over and gathered his well tailored cloak. "Every time he looks at you he sees Althea. It makes no sense...she was human and you were Drule, but it is there in the line of your face and the curve of your lips. It is not love he seeks, he had that from her. It is forgiveness,"

"She never loved him." Lotor screamed as he tossed the wine glass at the man. "She hated every fiber of his being."

"No, Lotor you do. She loved him. I do not know what happened during those last months, but I can tell you that from the time she came back form the Imperial Court pregnant with you to the time that Leannara left, she adored him. Something or someone interfered. There were dark forces at play. Look elsewhere to direct your anger. Put that keen mind I have heard so much about and try to discern the truth from the lies. I want justice for her too. I adored Althea and I miss her horribly."

"Do not tell me you were in love with her too." Lotor threw back her head and sighed.

"I am incapable of loving anyone...that is why I am so valued, but I too was infatuated with Lady Althea." Korrinoth cried when Althea died. I shed a tear or two myself." Garroth headed for the door. "Do not judge Zarkon so harshly, it was not all his fault. I cannot prove it but she had changed during the last year. She was not her right self."

Garroth quickly left wondering why he had said this to the prince. He knew there was a seething warlord under those delicate features. He was no longer looking at a boy but a man in only a few years would be coming into his prime. His mind went back to that final year when the woman that had indeed had caused him to fall under her spell had become irrational and uneasy, even paranoid. He had never detected a mental defect in her, she had a backbone of titanium. His mind went over who had a motive to see her gone and the inalterable conclusion was the witch. He almost wanted to shout it to Lotor, but he woman was as dangerous as she was clever and he had no desire to come under her radar. He was not an honorable man, even for those he claimed that he loved.

Garroth's mind began to focus on the girl that had taken up residence with Lotor at the Keep. She really was an enticing creature. She had Carris written all over her. She looked him straight in the eye with a bearing that screamed fearlessness. They stood there for almost a minute, sizing each other up and he knew as well as she did, what was standing before her. With a merchant's eyes she had totally appraised him and all she was waiting for him to do was speak so she could finish her analysis of what she was up against. He would do his best to give Lotor what he wanted, which seemed to be no more than a companion. He would try to keep her under wraps and away from Zarkon's gaze, if not for the girl or Lotor, but for a long dead friend. He, just like everyone else, could never deny Althea Carris's requests and somehow this had become one of them even though they had been uttered by Lotor, her _lotor._. In his head he heard that lilting Arusian accent leaning into him and whispering those words when she wanted some information out of him. He could see her now, the slight tilt of her head as she looked at him with those impossibly colored eyes. _Garroth, my dearest, my oldest and truest friend, it is such a little thing I ask_. She had taken that Drule phrase and made it her own, because as everyone knew, Althea never asked for anything small.

Garroth slipped into his car and told the driver where he wanted to go...there were certain people he needed to see. Unfortunately, he would have to probably send a transport with some men who would have to go and pillage the Castor region for what he sought. The women, no doubt, would be terrified. He did not like to focus on the image of them being hunted down like animals but that was a dirty part of his business. It was his job to make the terrified captives feel safe again, convince them that he could make it better for them. He would tell them that he could spare them a horrid life as a house slave or the quick, untimely death of a lazon mine worker. He would treat them like gold...providing them with all the comforts that Arus had not seen in more than a decade. And then, he would sell them like livestock...pampered and primmed...but livestock nonetheless. And then, the cruelest act of all, he would pretend to be their friend and confident as he tried to pry the secrets of their sometimes lovers from their lips...their masters putting up with him because his continued interference because of his ability to keep a harem under control was legendary.

The man had taken out a brush and did his best to contain his long, dark hair. He was a vain man and he always wanted to put forth his best appearance, even though the men he was going to see cared not for these things. His fine clothes, expensive colognes, and perfectly manicured appearance were his armor for the ugliness he harbored inside. Even the men he was going to see had no illusions that he could make each and everyone of them disappear in a heartbeat if he deemed them hazardous to his well being. Make no mistake, many warlords and nobles would be happy at his demise, but he did have his uses. He bartered in two things, women and information; the later being more highly valued.

His mind kept wandering back to the day he met Althea Carris. He was not there when she had been dragged into Zarkon's court, though he had heard the account told countless times. A part of him was actually sorry he had not seen it because it was said that for the first time Zarkon was stripped bare of any pretensions. For one moment, he was a smitten schoolboy laid low by a goddess. He had the look of the totally vanquished upon his face when he looked into those luminous eyes and uttered the word that sealed both his and Althea's fates. Another part of him rejoiced that he was not there, it was said that was the only day that Althea ever publicly gave into Zarkon as he threatened the life of the man rumored to be her lover. The thought of the magnificent Althea capitulating to Zarkon made him cringe. He knew she must have behind closed doors, but never in front of the court. It was she that quietly controlled him, this unspoken fact was what kept the nobility in check. It kept her alive, for there was not a nobleman or noblewoman that would have shed a tear for her departure. She was the creature that brought the human hybrids to being one step from the throne. A weak, broken Althea was not one he wanted to even contemplate. It was the last time the court would ever see her as anything less than she was, his equal. She was a queen of the Denubian Galaxy, in spirit if not in title, long before she ever met Zarkon.

His mind went back to that day, or more importantly, that night when he was summoned to Zarkon's chambers to bring her down into his harem. He walked gingerly into his King's bedchambers and his eyes came to the tattered remains of a dress on the floor ripped to shreds by the Drule's claws. He was surprised to find Zarkon lying in bed clearly exhausted and barely speaking above a whisper. Garroth had tried to temper his thoughts as he looked at the figure next to his King, bruised and bloodied. His claws marks raked on her back and he knew if he moved aside her hair he would find at least one set of teeth marks if not more. Zarkon's voice and demeanor was of a man who had recently mated and she had the look of a ravaged human. They were not Drules and took no pleasure in this type of joining, finding it to be nothing sort of torture.

He walked to Zarkon's wardrobe and took out a robe that she would be swimming it and laid it on the bed next to hapless woman. He heard her groan but she said nothing more as he made his way into the bathroom. He rummaged around and brought back a basin with washcloths, some ointments and bandages and carried them to the bedside. At first there was no reaction as he moved to pull away the bed linens that had half-hazardly gathered around her. He was sure the girl had been traumatized by the day's events and was practically catatonic. Instead, a strong and firm hand stopped him cold.

"I am not an invalid." She spoke out in Arusian. She looked up at him with clear, violet shaded eyes which focused on the paraphernalia in his hands.

"I did not mean to imply that you were." He answered back with a stilted accent. The woman shot him a surprised look, almost curious.

"You speak Arusian." She said. It was more of a demand than a question.

"My name is Garroth. I speak many languages. I thought you may need some help. You have been through quite an ordeal." Garroth was thankful that Zarkon could not speak Arusian.

"It was nothing." She said with some confidence in her voice. He gave a small smile. She had already learned the first lesson of Korrinoth, never show any weakness. She sat up and grabbed the robe. "You lie well." He said.

"Arusians are incapable of lying." He was surprised when she mustered up a small smile to add to her response.

"May I use the bathroom?" He nodded and took her wrist, gently leading her to Zarkon's bath. She looked around he noted , for what must be the first time, her eyes noting the workmanship of the luxurious bath. The room was a testament to gold and marble, between the faucets and the gilded ceilings...the room seemed too opulent to perform something as simple as a shower or bath. Later on, she would confess to him that she had grown up in the second richest residence on Arus, and she could not even remember one room in her grandfather's villa that even compared to Zarkon's personal suite. Not even the Castle of Lions, she told him, had such rooms.

"Hiro, I mean the others I was with, what happened to them?" She hesitantly said.

"I do not know." He remembered responding back, studying her intently. Her words already betrayed the truth of her concern for the one that those said seemed to be her mate.

"The king said he would spare their lives if I went with him." She said coldly, the look of a feared miscalculation was apparent on her face. She caught his look and knew she had given too much away. In an instant, a cold iciness descended on her visage.

"If he said he would spare them, he most likely did. He can be generous when the mood suits him. It is a small thing to do and they meant nothing to him. May I ask your name?" He had already known it but he was trying to soften up the conversation. "It is polite to offer it when I have told you mine."

"I am Althea Carris." He smiled at her answer, her tone brimming with assurance when she uttered it. "No other titles of importance, you have the bearing and beauty that marks a noble birth." He said expecting more to follow.

"Not nobility, I assure you. I am from a family of merchants. They have all married for love, not position." The woman said in proud but sad voice.

"Unlike the nobility of your world? I sense tension there." He walked over and turned on the showers.

"They have their failings" She murmured as she dropped the robe and stepped into the shower. He noted that there was no false modesty as she disrobed in front of him. For a moment, he admired her hourglass figure and her perfect shin, the way that her hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back, and the small smirk she gave him as he watched. He also knew that if she had her dithers he would go away and let her have a long deserved cry. He had come up here looking for a distraught, ravished maiden and instead had found a warrior goddess.. He looked her over once again, he had brought Zarkon more classically beautiful women, but none that had such a spirit.

"I am going to step outside, and give you some privacy." He shouted over the water. He stepped out of the bathroom only to hear Zarkon call him over. He sighed to himself, not really wanting to deal with the difficult monarch.

"Are you sure she cannot hurt herself in there?" A slightly weak but concerned voice came out of nowhere.

"My Lord, she is not the suicidal type." He stiffly answered almost insulted that his king would even consider that of her. He shook his head, angered that he was letting is opinion of this woman cloud his interactions with his most prominent client.

"Then what is she? " Zarkon said with a laugh half expecting some deep insight into the woman he had just bedded.

"A bitch." He remembered answering with no humor in his voice.

"I have never heard you call a woman that before." Zarkon laughed softly. The amusement in his previous question slightly tempered by Garroth's tone.

"Because I go out of my way to avoid dealing with them. They do not make good harem girls." Garroth roughly answered. "They don't make good harem material."

"Thalia is a bitch." Zarkon offered up. "She has the other girls running scared.

"No, she is not. She just thinks she is. That one, Althea Carris, is a real one. You should not have mated with her already." Garroth said in a matter of fact voice and looked at Zarkon disapprovingly.

"She was no virgin. She handled it surprisingly well. Most humans would have been sobbing in the corner." Zarkon answered back with a smile.

"Humans handle it better than you think. They take no joy in it but neither are they destroyed by it either. They do not understand it...but it meant something to you and you still have no idea of whom or what you are dealing with." Garroth said with a deathly seriousness causing Zarkon to stiffen up in annoyance,

"You do not know your place. You have no right to judge what I do or who I do it with." Zarkon lifted himself to a full right sitting position and practically shouted back at the man; before collapsing into his bed again.

"She is your first human, they are addictive under the best of circumstances and she is more to than that to you. The whole court heard you utter the word when you saw her. And now this, mark my words, you will lose your soul to that woman. Your desire for her shames you." Garroth threw Zarkon his pants. "Best you send her home or to the mines before it is too late."

"I cannot. The gods speak otherwise, they meant her for me. She will bear me a son." Zarkon looked at Garroth and wondered why he had just confessed this to a man who should be told no secrets.

"I have brought you so many woman and they have all proved incapable of bearing you a child and you think this human, whose genetic capability with our species is so in doubt, will bear you a child. You are insane." Garroth had taken to a divan facing the bed.

"I am not. She will bear me a son. He will be an invincible warrior. You will see." Zarkon slipped on his pants.

"Why did you mate with her? You usually show a little more self-control with your women when they first arrive. It is not like she is in season." Garroth asked more out of curiosity than anything.

"You did not smell the estrogen on her skin. She is fertile right now...of that, I am sure." Zarkon half mumbled out. Garroth did not know if his king said the words to slight him or not, as his majesty well knew, he was incapable of smelling anything. No Drule woman would ever excite him.

"So this is not about sex but procreation." Garroth said with a laugh. Zarkon shot him a glare.

"Yes, it was. Still is." Zarkon mumbled back. "Bring her to the harem...do not treat her any different than the rest. :Let Thalia put her in her place." Zarkon folded his arms behind his bed and smashed his body into the sheets.

"I do not think that is the best course of action but as you wish, so shall it be." Garroth went back into the bathroom. For a moment, he stood there mesmerized by Althea brushing her hair. Another woman who have looked defeated, instead she looked rejuvenated. Her skin glowed and for a moment, the look of sadness that crossed her face, was banished to some far away place. As if she had the ability to compartmentalize her suffering. She even flashed him a smile.

"I hope he does not mind that I borrowed his brush." She said. Garroth recalled just standing there, shaking his head. She had just mated with a warlord. The bandage she had placed on her neck was already turning red as it tried to absorb the blood still welling up. She was acting as if nothing had occurred.

"Are you on birth control?" And for a moment, he saw the color leave her face,

"No...I was not." She said. "Can a Drule get a human pregnant?" She asked in a matter of fact way.

"It has happened." He said. No use in trying to deny it. "Not often, but it has happened."

"And the children, are they normal?" She looked at him, again a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Exquisitely beautiful. The females, in particular, are highly sought after as bedmates." He answered with a smile.

"But not as wives." She shot back.

"No, the children are looked on as less intelligent than an average Drule." He said softly with a smile.

"Is that true?" She said, her eyes stared at him intently.

"Not at all, they just think differently. Our people do not understand humans, that is all." He said with a smile.

"And you do." She said. "Or at least you think you do."

"I thought I did until today Althea Carris. You are a very dangerous human." He took her hand and led her to the door. "We need to become friends."

"Why?" Althea looked at him, already knowing that a bargain was to be made.

"Because you need someone around here and I can always use a friend in high places." He whispered.

"Me, I am just his slave. He made that clear today." She snorted back.

"Slave...hardly. He fell in love with you today. You do not understand. You have conquered Korrinoth. First, let us take you to the doctor. Those scrapes can easily become infected." He softly said. "That's good that you handled him that well...it will not usually be like that."

"Are you telling me it gets weirder than that?" Garroth shot her a look. "It is a sacred thing...do not mock it. "They walked out of his chambers. Some of the passing people and guards shot them, actually her, a strange look as they saw her neck bleed. She did not know why, but she felt she should cover up the wound with her hand as it seemed to be getting much attention and some odd leers.

"I am never leaving here. He is never going to let me go." She said with a sigh.

"You do not know that. He has released several women from his harem, usually with their freedom." He said to her, trying to offer a glimmer of hope.

"Not me. You cannot believe the things he said while we were..." Her voice trailed off. "I hate him." She said. He heard the venom lace her words.

"It was just the madness talking, that is all. Hold your tongue. He will not allow you to disrespect him." Garroth whispered back to her.

"Will I see my friends again?" She whispered.

"No...they will be either sent to the mines or shipped off world. They are as good as dead to you. Mentioning them to him again will only make whatever fate they have in store for them worse. He has no more use for them." He said slowly as they continued down to the infirmary. He was surprised to see Zarkon's witch waiting for them. In her hand, she held an elixir and she told Althea to drink it. He whispered to her that the witch would give the harem girls birth control as she was also the king's lover and wished to bear him heirs. Althea protested but Garroth shook his head no and told her best not to get on her bad side and do as she says. The beautiful witch looked desperate as she drank the bitter mixture, even crestfallen as her heart seemed to be ripped out with every drop that Althea ingested. He heard the witch murmur _it is done _as she hurriedly left the room. The doctor treated her wounds and Garroth continued the seemingly endless walk back to Zarkon's harem. The guards nodded as they entered and he walked her to a back room. Unlike the suite she had just been in, this room was almost bare save a bed and an armoire. Even her quarters on the ship had been more luxurious.

She sat on the bed until he returned. She commented that he was surprisingly good at judging her size as she slipped on the clothes. She then did something he never expected. She sat down and called him over and placed her head in his lap and cried. She was no longer a proud woman, but a scared teenager. It was not a small cry but one that went on for hours as he gently stroked her still damp hair. It was the cry of someone who had their heart wrenched out and did not know where to place it. It was the cry of a goddess who had lost something incomprehensible. It was epic in nature and it shook him to the core. In that moment, a man who felt no lust or want, fell madly in love not with the person he held on his lap but the overwhelming passion of Althea Carris. She was a force of nature, even in her keening. And then, she stopped.

"I know it sounds hard to believe, but you will forget the man you loved. Time will lessen the pain." He tries to say convincingly.

"Hiro...he was not who I thought he was." She said sadly.' The man who deserves my love would willingly die to keep me from another. He stood there as your king manhandled me. It did not raise a hand or a cry in protest." Althea's lip was stiff as if she was trying to suppress a cry.

"He would have been killed instantly. He had no choice." Garroth spoke reassuringly.

"It did not matter. I am a woman worth dying for. I accepted a fate worse than death so that he could live. He chose wrong. I should have refused the king at least one more time but my heart grew soft." To this day Garroth remembered that look of ice on her face. He had seen her give hundreds of icy glares to Zarkon and the Court but none ever matched this intensity.

"You are a heartless creature, Althea Carris, You will do fine here," Garroth said with a laugh. She did not return an amused look.

"How do I make him fall truly fall in love with me? How do I make him want no other?" Garroth shook his head, not quite understanding what she wanted.

He already is desperate for you, silly girl. You are his _lotor. _The thing he cannot live without. You already own him body and soul." The man smoothed her hair.

"He denied me my happiness, I want to deny him his. What Zarkon does not know is he has fallen for a terrible person. It was said that I was the most selfish woman on all of Arus." She said with a small laugh. A smirk filled her face as she wiped away at her reddened eyes.

"Were you, my dear?" She nodded. "Selfish enough not to let my companions die today. It was my greatest sin to date." Her words fell softly around her like a shawl, a veil to hide her perceived sin.

And to this day, Garroth thought, I am the only one who knows why Althea Carris refused to marry King Zarkon. She denied him the one thing that would have made him truly happy, to call her his wife. The one thing he could not make her do. The entire Court, including Zarkon, thought it was in respect to her lost love but she had already buried him with little fanfare. What love she had for him died during that long cry, It had become apparent to Garroth that she had felt her sacrifice had been in vain. Part of her, he was sure w, wanted to die with him at her side, and he had somehow disappointed her. He became some sort of unworthy coward to be despised, not loved. Garroth mused that after she had fallen in love with the Demon King, she somehow tortured him with the memory of her Hiro – the man she should have married. In the end, she got her wish He paid dearly for what he had stolen from her that day. Zarkon's mourning for his lost Queen had surpassed anything she had felt on that day, his passion even greater than hers and unlike the Ice Queen he had no where to put it. Truly, the gods had cursed them both.

The glider stopped before an immense mansion that rivaled any warlord's. the gates opened and soon he was ushered into an office. He was here to make arrangements. The man in the chair was the foremost flesh peddler in human exotics. He could easily produce a few high class specimens now and then, he would send a hunting party to Arus to secure the rest. His fees came high but who better than a human to trick the girls into capture. The man was tall for a human, standing well over six feet, with a startling smile and boyish looks that made him seem more an angel than the monster he was. He could have long made his escape from Doom; but the likes of him flourished in the underbelly of Korrinoth society. It had made the man rich beyond his wildest dreams and he took no shame in the dishonor of his career as a professional kidnapper, slaver and rapist. He was a cruel and sadistic man and most of the women that he released to Garroth were grateful to their deliverance. Garroth looked him over; thankful that Althea had died shortly before his name became well known in certain circles.

"Garroth, what brings you here?" The man leaned over, flashing his wolfish smile. "You usually avoid my wares."

"A client has a special request. Hw would like fourteen attractive human blonds, preferably Arusian." Garroth said. His voice seemed anything but pleased when he delivered the request.

"Even though they are my specialty, I do not keep that many on hand. It will require a hunting expedition. Can he pay?" Garroth nodded as the eager man returned a cruel smile.

"He has the resources." A cold tingle passed down Garroth's spine. This man was the worse slaver in the quadrant.

"Well, it has been some time since I visited home. I can get together a team in two weeks. I require 75% of my fee up front for such a job." The man slipped a bank account number over the desk. "You know the routine. I have some choice girls for you to look over now I do not think your client will be disappointed. I certainly enjoyed them. I assure you, I thoroughly broken them in." The man got up and motioned Garroth to follow.

"You always do, Hiro. You were never very good at leaving the merchandise alone." Garroth grumbled.

"Let's face it, that is all women are good for anyway. Even the great Althea Carris was no more than merchandise in the end. "When I first went after her I was looking to get my claws into the Carris wealth, who would have thought it would have lead me to all of this with no ring on my hand. Lucky I got to escape that bitch, she would have made my life a living hell. You know, there were times, I actually pitied Zarkon for having been stuck with her." The man said with a laugh. "Though she did have one or two redeeming qualities if you know what I mean." The childish grin re-emerged on the man's face. He looked oddly at the Drule who was doing his best to keep a growl supressed.

"Oh I forgot, you two were friends. I meant no disrespect, Althea was quite a girl in her own way. I just found her a bit too demanding at times."

"She was not particularly thrilled with you either." Garroth responded.

"I beg to differ, they say she was heartbroken at my demise. But I cannot say that I regretted her death. My niche was not exactly possibly until she met her untimely fate, was it? Zarkon had outlawed human slavery while she lived....hence my own freedom. And he kept his hands off of Arus too in deference to his Queen. So as long as Althea lived, my hands were tied as far as developing my boutique services." At that he opened a door and presented a room of chained, scantily clad females.

"Garroth, does anything interest you?" Garroth looked at Hiro and sighed. Althea Carris never did have much luck with men that chose to love her.

In the prince's residence, known as The Keep, a young man sat on the floor with a younger girl. In his hands was a pad as he kept making her repeat common Drule phrases. He happily noted that she was a quick learner and had a facility for the difficult, harsh tones of his people. A few times he reached over and touched her hair and sighed. It was so much like his mother's but she seemed uncomfortable as he did so and would quickly pull back his hand. In a few days he would be gone and she would have to learn to navigate Drule without him; he shook his head and worried what he had been thinking. He shood have been in his chambers making love to the serving girl. She seemed more than willing as she poured his wine all day; instead he was sitting up all night with this girl knowing that Garroth would find her an acceptable tutor. But in all honesty, he preferred the girl's company to another fruitless night of rutting with a stranger. He laughed at his preference. Garroth was right, he was totally insane.


	14. Chapter 14

Three Months

I

Lotor heard the alarm go off and gave off a groan. His head was still swimming and his mouth was dry from last night's excessive partaking in wine. The dim morning light threw shadows unto the two blondes huddled against him in the large bed. Garroth, as usual, had exceptional taste. Their features were exquisite from their large, blue eyes to their lush lips. Yet, they were broken things lacking any fire or spirit. Even, Hesta, the girl that brought him his wine and occasionally shared his bed had been more entertaining than these pretty little dolls beside him. For a brief moment, he hungered for Sharra. None of the women he had been with on Drule or Korrinoth could even compete with her. He sighed as he grabbed a pair of lounge pants and made his way up to his personal suite.

"You are late." Althea chirped as he came through the door. He had given her the suite right next to his own, one that had been built for a wife and possibly a few children. He laughed to himself, that her suite was actually much larger, and more luxurious than his was. She lovingly tugged his arm and practically dragged him over to the table that had a generous breakfast laid out. He sat down, and after drinking a couple of glasses of water, he lustily attacked the dishes of meat before him. His eyes opened wide with delight as he sunk his teeth in. He swallowed and looked up at her.

"How did you get this? These are from my father's cook?" Lotor said with a smile as his fork lunged back into the platter. A spoon quickly followed drowning the meat in reddish gravy that looked more like thickened blood than anything else.

"You told me the other night how you missed her cooking. I made the language tutor teach me how to ask. I am not sure but your cook seemed very excited when I asked her to prepare some dishes for you. She called you her favorite _shoshi. _She wonders why you have no come by the Castle of late Tika thought you would come and say goodbye_._" Althea's eyes glowed.

"You learned that much Drule in a week." I am impressed." Lotor said with a smile but Althea could tell by his tone that he wanted to change the subject. She obliged.

"My birthday is in a couple of months. I am going to be sixteen." She murmured as she stood behind him and slipped her arms around his chest in a friendly hug. At first he was taken back, he was sitting at the table shirtless and such an intimate touch had only come from lovers. He had not been hugged in a non sexual manner since he had been a child and even with this Althea there were some doubts at its chasteness. He had to stifle a laugh. There was a burgeoning sexuality brimming in her; her flirtatious nature was charming and already Lotor was anticipating trouble. He gently pulled her arms away.

"You should watch your hands around a Drule male." He cautiously warned. "I have been careful in who has seen you." He paused and looked at her. She seemed to blossom during this last week. All of her cares had been attended to and a look of contentment was on her face. She was well scrubbed, rested and fed for the first time since she was a small child. The roughness in her personality that he had first encountered had given away to a softer, gentler personality but he knew if push came to shove the survivor was still imbedded deep within her soul. "I sadly will not be here for it, my lady. I have to return to my ship and will not be back for several months but we will talk. I will make sure Garroth arranges something splendid to entertain you." He looked up and over his shoulder, his eyes glimpsing into her violet ones. Across her face, he saw his own irascible smirk looking back at him.

"You keep telling me that. Do you really have to go? I do not understand why the Crown Prince of Doom is a Supremacy officer. What happens if you get killed? Zarkon will have no heir to the throne." She looked at him puzzled.

"He has grandsons." Lotor said with an odd smile. "I am replaceable. Plus, I just received word on my promotion. I am a newly minted captain."

"Does that outrank a Crown Prince? And don't ever say you're irreplaceable again. Not to me, you aren't. I only have you left. Until I met you, I was sure I was the only one." She looked at him with some annoyance. He could tell that her departure was disturbing her. "Do not leave. Stay here. What will they do?" She stamped her foot on the ground, and for a moment, she reminded him of Sharra who had bitched him out for not going to Drule and spending the last week of his leave with her. He said there was a delicate situation on Korrinoth that needed handling. He did not exactly lie."

"Stop complaining I have ignored everyone and everything to attend to you." He snapped back.

"Not everyone. You did not sleep here last night. You were with the other girls." She said ruefully. Her voice was filled with annoyance which made him smile. At times, she was turning out to be a frustrating acquisition.

"They have names, learn them." He said with a sly smile. "He knew that there was already tension between the women and Althea. "You could be nicer to them. They think you have some power over me." He added with a chuckle.

"But I do dear cousin, you think I am adorable." Althea snorted back causing Lotor to burst out into tears,

"You most certainly are, my dear." He said as he turned back to his meal and wondering how long he could keep her under wraps. He was not expecting her next request or the forcefulness in which it was conveyed. "I want a flyer. I asked Garroth and he told me one could get a license for one at 16." Althea's eyes were looking down on him. It was not a request, it was practically a demand. He looked at the hand placed subtly on her hip and the language of her body posture.

"Slaves cannot have flyer licenses." Lotor answered back in all seriousness.

"Then I am your slave." She huffed back. A large pout crossed her lips and she looked as she would cry. She was not in slave attire but wore a gown to the nobility would. Its high collar accenting her neck, her lithe frame hinting at a generous bosom was encased in the tight black gown. Her crowning glory, long and straight, reflected the dimmed lights of the room captured by its glossy sheen. For a moment, she was no longer Fia the Pirate Queen, or Althea his cousin, but Althea herself standing there.

"Of course, not. I do not know what I am going to do with you?" He said, turning to consider the creature before him.

And then, without skipping a beat, the horrible phrase in Drule, came tumbling from her lips. Where she had learned it he did not know but she said it with a perfect inflection...the emphasis was exacting. He shuddered with fear as she shoved the knife in.

"It is such a little thing I ask, my Prince. Her fingers ruffled through his hair, stroking his still tangled mess back in a motion he remembered from his childhood. He closed his eyes for a moment that seemed like an eternity and dreamed his mother was standing before him. He shook himself out of his fantasy. She was just a silly, young girl.

"I will talk to Borak and to Mogor." He sighed; defeat and despair were in his voice.

"Who are they?" She looked at him, a curious look now plastered on her face at the mention of new names.

"Men who will grant your wishes. I should have told Borak you were here already. He will figure out a way for you to lose that slave appellation." He said with a smile. "You are here a week and you ask for what most youth only dream of. Most people never make enough for a good flyer. I have never even seen one on Arus, even when I was a child." He muttered. "Althea Carris, you are impossible."

"I do not care what others get or do not get. Most people do not have the Crown Prince of Korrinoth as their cousin and protector." She said with a grin. "I will make an excellent pilot, you will see." He felt the warm kiss land upon his cheek and another hug, this time definitely platonic; find its way around his neck.

"Of that I am sure. I will get you that flyer somehow. I remembered how much I wanted one at your age." He said with a laugh. "My father refused to give me one and I was a bit furious since several other of my fellow students had one."

"Lotor, I love you." She positively squealed.

And with that, he pushed himself away from the table and made his excuses. He went into his bath and turned on the shower. He slipped in and sat huddled on the floor and broke out in tears. He had not heard anyone utter those words since he was seven years old. He would have bought her a dozen flyers to hear them said again. He let that moment wash over him and then, with the meticulousness of an imperial bureaucrat, he opened up a place in his mind and filed the feeling that those words brought. He had found the answer to why he felt compelled to bring this woman child to such a dangerous place as Doom. It had been pure selfishness. He was about to leave her here alone, unguarded from the demons that he called his peers. He got up and looked in the mirror; hating what he saw. He was an abomination forged with human, Drule and Wyvern blood. By all accounts, a monster was hiding just under the surface. _Even the demon spawn of the Wyvern prince needs love_, he thought_._

On Lotor's very last day on Korrinoth he called Borak and signed the papers that allowed him to become a father to a girl named Fia, who took his maternal last name of Carris. Lotor, being of age, was allowed to make this petition to the courts and though it was highly unusual it was not totally unknown for a Drule to adopt the member of another race. Borak, as usual, was not thrilled about being dragged into any aspect of Lotor's personal life that is father had no wind of. At first, he sat Lotor down and gave him a long lecture about keeping big secrets from his father. Borak begged him to tell Zarkon, even pleaded with Lotor to share this. That was until Lotor let him meet his cousin. Borak's face dropped and he sighed and agreed with Lotor, for now it was best to keep her a secret.

Lotor was long gone when the courts returned the papers. The judge made some notations but all in all it went through quietly in a closed hearing with Borak representing Lotor in closed chambers. Borak was sure that the judge seemed a bit perturbed why the Prince would want to adopt this girl but he was not one to make waves with the Crown Prince of Doom. Borak had kept a careful eye out for the return of the originals but they were somehow intercepted and appeared in the daily pile that he dutifully left to be signed by Zarkon each day...Every morning, when other royal duties did not interfere, they spent a good hour together as Zarkon signed and initialed the originals which were then later scanned and ferreted away to some archive.

Zarkon noted Lotor's name on the top of this stack and at first assumed that he had made more contracts with Garroth. It was almost becoming a joke and Zarkon was scratching his head at his son's obsessive collecting of blond harem slaves. It had become the gossip of the court. The rumor was that the prince's royal residence was supposedly filled to the brim with human blondes. This, Zarkon thought was a recent development, since his spies informed him that his son had a preference for brunettes. Zarkon was the one with the roving eye for flaxen haired slaves. Or the papers could have simply been one of Lotor's vast property holdings, his father being his signatory while he was away. It was neither. Instead he came across papers of a more odious sort. They should have never been in the pile. Either a clerk had messed up, or knowing the ways that certain individuals got their promotions around here, someone slipped them in. Being the Chief Royal Magistrate was a highly coveted position though Borak could not reason why. The job came with a grand home and a more than healthy paycheck; but it also came with a king who was not hesitant to show his displeasure with fists, and sometimes, more than that.

Zarkon looked at the papers and blinked twice. It was an adoption decree for a girl. Lotor was formerly adopting a female named Fia. At first Zarkon just assumed his fool son had finally knocked some girl up and was trying to do right by the child by granting it legitimacy; but instead he saw that she was just about 16 years of age. She was almost at the age of majority. Barok looked for cover as the large man roared for an explanation. The poor magistrate looked for cover as the papers went flying. Borak mumbled something about being of service to the throne and scurried away while Zarkon threw a wine glass at the departing man who backed out the door claiming not have any knowledge as to why Lotor asked him to do this. .Zarkon eventually clamed down and soon curiosity overcame him

Zarkon sat in the back of his flyer, his emotions reeling between anger and being perplexed, as he made his way over to the Keep. He was anxious to pay a visit to his son's latest folly. For a moment, he had considered taking Borak who he knew was not telling him the truth. It would have been fun to confront the harried man whom his son tended to share his confidences with. At times, it still irked Zarkon that Borak liked to play the father figure with his son; robbing him of that role. The flyer settled down in front of the architectural masterpiece. Zarkon smiled as he looked over his son's residence. He had hired the most famous post Modern designer to envision it. He would have loved such a home at Lotor's age.

Zarkon burst through the doors yelling the name Fia Carris as the servants and a few harem girls scattered away. Finally, he was greeted by a young woman who spoke a flawless Drule greeting with the hint of an Arusian lilt. She stood almost six measures tall and had flashing violet eyes and a beautiful smile that almost made him come crashing to his knees. And when he accidentally uttered the name Althea she mistakenly slipped out a yes in Arusian. He shook his head wondering if he had gone mad.

Zarkon looked the girl over and sighed. As the fleeting moment the memory of a girl he once knew dissipated into the air, his eyes saw this one more clearly. "You are Carris." He flatly stated in a heavily accented Arusian. She looked at him and did not know why she was so surprised that he spoke her tongue. It was not as flawless as Lotor's but it was better than Garroth's and she could understand him perfectly. Fia should have been cowering, every fiber in her body told her that this was her best course f action, but instead she held her head up as she looked into the brilliant yellow eyes of the monarch.

"My Lord, that is the name your son has given me." She answered back, her eyes lowered to the floor.

"Do not play coy with me. Arusians lie badly." He leaned over and flashed his fangs at her.

"We do not lie at all." The girl shot him a challenging look.

"That was your first lie. I knew an Arusian that lied all the time and quite well when it suited her." He hissed back.

"Highly unusual, I assure you." The girl said stiffly which made the hideous creature before her laugh.

"Not for a true Carris." He sneered at her. "Made them the most hated family on Arus. They were more Earthers than Arusians. Everyone knew that." He looked at her and grinned knowing full well that it would bring a response. He could bring Althea into a rage when he repeated these rumors.

"That is a lie." The girl answered back. "The others were always just jealous because we were smarter and faster than they were when it came to the competition." Her face turned a pale white when she realized what she said.

"They also have a notoriously bad temper." He slipped over to the couch.

"How many more Althea look alikes are there out there to haunt me?" He said with an odd smile.

"I am the last." Althea, now called Fia, said. Zarkon sighed as he saw the look of melancholy in her eyes.

"And your parents gave you the name of a mythical pirate from Demos. How amusing is that since the Arusian and the Demosians are bitter enemies. Now why would they do that?" She shrugged. To be fair, he really did not want or need an answer. "My son is still young and does not cover his tracks well. I thought the description of his newly acquired harem was odd since he was going back to the _Kiros_,and you are not his type, but you explain everything. He is trying to hide a jewel in a mountain of gems. The question of the hour is why did he bring you here?" Zarkon leaned back into the sofa, and odd look came across his face.

"Company, sir." She murmured.

"Really, I did not think Lotor would violate the religious principles he holds so dear." Zarkon reached out to touch her. His claws, thick and yellow, looked nothing like the meticulously groomed ones of her cousin. She pulled back and a leer crossed his face.

"My King, you misunderstood my words." Althea cried out as her eyes opened wide. Zarkon roared with laughter.

"Do not fear me, you are legally my granddaughter now. When the Court sees you, they will gossip. You are so like her but you are not my lotor. Althea looked at him confused to why he would invoke his son's name in her presence. Lotor, unfortunately, thought of everything by making you his legal ward or we may have been getting to know each other in a different, less familial way. He can be a very clever boy." Zarkon said with the smile that was less than comforting. "In his absence we need to see that you are provided for as any member of the royal house is. You will be moving in with me."

"Sir, I do not think Lotor would want that. He likes me to take care of his home." She practically whispered.

"Nothing is Lotor's." He paused and looked down at the girl and gave a less threatening smile, still hideous to behold. For a moment, she thought of her pour aunt who had been forced to lie with this creature and shuddered at the horror of it. "Not yet, at least. Everything on Doom, even you, even Lotor, is mine to do with as I please. "

"Well Fia, you are about to turn sixteen...that is a good age for my purposes. Almost old enough to have gained some common sense and still pretty enough to be enchanting. Considering how the men of my court reacted to Althea, you will be a valued property in a few years. I am sure I will get a sweet concession from some warlord or noble who wants you for his bed. Tonight, I will send a flyer to being you to the Castle. He looked her up and down. Dress appropriately. You look like some upper class whore that I am fucking. You are a property of the House Diazaiba'al. Garroth should be able to help you out there." Fia gasped slightly. Zarkon laughed at her and turned away. A voice, full of pride and fury, caused him to turn around.

"I am not property I am not a slave." Zarkon looked her over. His first impulse was to strike the whelp. Who was she to talk back to him in that manner? This slip of a girl, a conquered Arusian, had directly challenged him. He looked into those icy eyes, the odd shade of blue that he had not seen on any other human save his Althea and sighed. How many times did the woman he called wife, the mother of his children, and the love of his life tell him the opposite. The words of Althea still rang in his ears ..._I am only a slave._ He would have given anything to here that she was his wife or even his queen but she never would accept those titles.

"No, you are not my slave or anyone's for that matter. Nor shall you be. I will send a flyer by later. Have your things ready. As far as I am concerned you are my ward until you _father_ returns.´ Zarkon's emphasis on the word made her cringe a bit.

Zarkon got up and left. From the way Lotor had described him she expected him to be more infirm but she noted that he still moved with the quickness of a mountain lion ready to lunge on its prey. She thought of the few Drules she had actually seen face to face, and nothing compared to the giant that had waltzed into the Keep as if he, and not Lotor, was its true owner. She had seen the servants and the girls scamper like frightened mice at his approach reminding her of the servants she had left behind. She sighed before she approached him, putting on her best poker face. The first thing she had learned when dealing with Drules was not to back down...to do so was submission. Zarkon was a terrifying thing to behold very unlike the other Drules that she had met so far.

She quickly went over the list in her head and found not a Drule that was even close to this man. Borak had come by to make her sign some papers. He was a large man, larger than both Lotor and Garroth, but he had a gentleness about him. Garroth, though taller than Lotor, was fairly effeminate and did not pose much of a threat even though Lotor told her that he might be one of the most dangerous men she would ever meet. Mogor showed up about a month ago. He was the first Drule that scared her. He was no much taller than Lotor but he did look like he could rip a man apart and Althea was terrified when she was alone with him in a flyer though he did not make one move against her. He sent a flyer for her three days a week now and he seemed pleased with her progress in the flight stimulator. Stern, but fair, he liked to call her Lotor's little pet and wondered aloud why his Prince was wasting a valuable commander's time on a slave.

And then there was Lotor, gangly and thin he looked like the weakest of the Drules she had encountered. He often walked around with no shirt, seeming to hate the heat that he kept up in the Keep in order to keep her comfortable. She once joked about his scrawniness with Garroth who gave her an off putting look. He told her that he was young and that the muscles would come, he was the son of a warmaster after all. One morning, he woke her bright an early, and took her to a window overlooking a small pen outside the Keep. She watched him kill a terrifying robeast that was three times his size in a matter of minutes. She wanted to scream in terror as it unfolded but a steward, looking up at them, shook his head no. Garroth was watching impassively as he was returning communiqués on a mobile device. He whispered it was the steward who should be crying out because he was the one who would have to clean up the mess.

Althea did not know what to do. She sent a message to Garroth and then one by sub-space to Lotor. Garroth told her to calm down and go to the Castle and that he would try to talk some sense into Zarkon. He shook his head wondering how Zarkon found out. He almost had to laugh. Lotor, who was barely home, had now acquired a harem for which no one was making use of to hide a girl that was so easily discovered.

Althea, with great trepidation, got into the flyer. Besides her was a guard with another sitting next to the pilot. The cabin was luxurious, far more than the one that had brought her to the Keep or the military one that Mogor picked her up in, and she wondered if this was for the King's personal use. Althea Carris, nor did Zarkon know at the time, that she had nothing to worry about. When future historians complied the history of the House of Diazaib'al it would be noted that there was only one person Zarkon the Demon King ever totally capitulated to. It was not his wife, his son, or even the daughter that was so like him, but an Arusian who the people of Drule called Fia. It would be told that for some odd reason only the women of the House of Carris, from the planet known as Arus, were ever capable of soothing the cruel tyrant. This woman, also known to some as Althea Carris, finally left the Great King; desperate to return to her home on Arus. It was said that when she left Korrinoth wept for days.

II

Lotor looked at the sergeant grabbing his bags as he disembarked off the transport and sighed as the man roughly tossed his duffel on the cart.

"Be careful." He growled.

"Yes, sir." The man answered back as he gave Lotor a less then welcoming look. Lotor barely even noticed these glances anymore. The lowmen had no love for officers or even military life; the Supremacy making it hard for the enlisted. The whole system was out of balance. The Imperials, in their effort to push back the humans and to continue their own expansion, had great increased their military capacity without an expansion in the administrative system that controlled the leviathan. Basically, the same number of officers and bureaucrats, and sometimes resources, were responsible for an ever larger growing number of men and women. It led to a massive amount of internal strife. The government had been recruiting far more soldiers than it could even pay or feed. The combination of mismanagement and paltry resources was creating disciplinary problems throughout the military. Some of these problems ended up at the end of his sword.

The officers usually came from the elite of society. Many of them had been trained in combat since childhood, and so they were much more tolerant of the hardships that accompanied this lifestyle. The lowmen were a different story, drafted in short notice and some without consent, they sometimes took poorly to their fate. Desertion and mutiny were not uncommon ad punishable by death. The sentence was usually administered by a warmaster making Lotor and his ilk not the most popular group on any ship or base.

Most warmasters, including Lotor himself, did not have a better opinion of the lowmen. It was assumed that a common soldier could be trained; but not trusted. Zarkon, Lotor mused, had been the perfect example of this. The Drule ruled their militaries based on this assumption, and most of the soldiers were treated as potential rabble rousers whether they had volunteered or conscripted into service. The way to handle this perceived problem was fear. Unless the officers kept a careful eye on their men, most of the Supremacy's upper echelon felt that their military would disintegrate. It was considered of the most utmost importance that the men feared the officer core more than an enemy they were encountering. This was done through corporeal punishment and execution. Lotor knew what the man was thinking when he picked up his bags. He took one look at the man and knew that the ship's most prolific executioner had returned.

It did not surprise him to see Zandu walking across the landing bay. He was still a lieutenant, Lotor barely jumping past him in rank. Of course, while Lotor was playing dress up and going to imperial balls this man was learning how to be a soldier...something Lotor would have probably preferred. Still, the experience had not been a total waste.

"Welcome back, _sir." _Zandu said with more than a bit of sarcasm in his voice as he offered a lazy salute. Lotor offered a sharp one back. His hand snapped across his heart. One of them could at least pretend they were still on the _Kiros_.

"The Commander wants to see you after you get settled in." A grin crossed the young man's face and Lotor became slightly troubled. Lotor expected some snarky comment to follow but Zandu seemed amused enough with the last statement. "You need to report to Housing and they will assign your new berth."

"Anything exciting happen while I was gone?" Lotor asked trying to think of something to say to his fellow shipmate.

"No. It was amazing how things quieted down after your departure. The ship did not fall apart without you Lotor."

"Did not think it would." Lotor answered back with a smirk.

"So, I guess you still hate me and will do anything to get me thrown off this ship or worse." Lotor answered with a big grin.

"Better believe it, old friend." Zandu said as he exposed his upper fangs.

"Good, gives me something to look forward to. Tell the Commander that I will join him shortly. You are dismissed, _lieutenant_._" _Lotor actually enjoyed putting the emphasis on the rank and hoped that Zandu's was his to review. He would love denying a captainship to the little mouse.

Lotor had never been to Housing before. He had been shown his quarters when he arrived tot he ship last time. He looked it up on the map and started to make his way down to their offices. He was too busy reflecting on his arrival and his first two unpleasant encounters. The day had not started off well. The excitement of his return, at a higher rank no less, had already been thoroughly deflated. He was sure that Gavin would not be thrilled with his promotion either. At least, he thought, he would be getting a bigger room. He was looking forward to having a new roommate. Horan, though useful, was annoying and a lot of work. . The ones that were carried in the commissary were a bit on the high side for most of the regular officers and he would like to impress his roommate with his generosity. The thought of playing some games brightened his outlook as he made his way down the ship's halls. He could not imagine his return getting any worse, but it did.

"Are you positive there is no other berth available? I will happily exchange it for a lieutenant's." "Who is lieutenant Gavin rooming with?" Lotor leaned over the desk giving his most intimidating stare. The young woman behind the desk, in front of the computer, ignored him.

"Sir, this is out of my hands. You need to clear any sort of change with either Lieutenant Willa or your superior officer. My hands are tied." The girl looked at him and shrugged.

"Ensign Reeza, I am not happy with your response. This department used to report to me. Where is Captain Jerol? I would like to talk to her." He practically snarled.

"She got married and transferred back to Drule." The young woman, shaking replied.

Who the hell is your superior officer now?" The girl looked up at him nervously and pointed behind his shoulder.

"I am Captain Lotor. You can go around and intimidate the infantry all you like but you will refrain from harassing my people. I do not like your attitude. Oh by the way, I would be careful about writing me up for insubordination. I have a few berths sets aside for people like you…the mice are complimentary." He swung around and faced the beautiful Drule. For a moment, he forgot why he was so upset but he soon came to his senses.

"I have already been forced to room with Horan during my last posting. The man is impossible to live with." Lotor walked over so he could look the lieutenant in the eye. She did not flinch. Instead, a broad smile crossed her face,

"According to my notes, you are too. I have been trying to place you for a week. This is not a hotel that gets cancellations or room requests. It is a well manned military vessel. You are officer, act like one. Horan has the same position in rank as you do and a berth in his quarters is free. If you do not like it then I suggest you sleep in a common area. But as far as I can tell, you are perfect for each other. Everyone has specifically requested not to room with either of you." She walked into her office with Lotor following closely behind her.

""He is a slob. I have seen robeasts keep cleaner pens." He muttered.

"Learn to be either more sociable so that others will live with you or learn tolerate Horan's quirkiness. Not much more to say on the subject. Unless, the Commander gives me a call you are stuck with him. And trust me, he will not. He is not pleased with your return. He was hoping the Emperor would keep you a bit longer." She gave a sickly sweet smile to Lotor.

"You seem privy to Hazar's thoughts. An impressive feat if I might say so." Lotor leaned in, "Has he taken to breaking his own rules?" She shook her head no. Lotor felt an urge of desire rush through her. His hand went to touch a long, dark tendril fallen out of place. She angrily slapped his hand away.

She gave him an odd look. "His dislike of you is common knowledge. People are just either too polite, or from what I just saw at my assistant's desk, too intimidated to tell you otherwise."

"And why is that? What have I done to displease him so?" Lotor walked behind her desk and swung around her chair to face him.

"Fear of hospitalization. They say you are an egotistical bastard." He saw her ruby red eyes widen as he leaned down, bringing their faces close.

"Guilty as charged. Anything else?" He whispered.

"You are insubordinate." She swallowed the words down.

"Only when the risk merits it." He answered as his lips found hers. She was a luscious thing and he would not be denied a taste. He broke it off and looked at her wondering if she would hold her ground. Instead he was met with a glare.

"I want a different room, Lieutenant Willa; I know you can accommodate me. I will even berth with a lieutenant if need be. ." His hand now moved unto her shoulder as he pulled her in for a second kiss, slightly annoyed that she did not seemed thrilled. He felt her desire, she had wanted his affections. . Her felt a slight resistance as he leaned into her. Then, he heard a gruff voice at the door. His internal voice groaned.

"Captain Lotor, will you please unhand my officer?" The threat in the voice was tempered. Lotor shook his head. This day could not get any worse.

"Your Excellency…it is not what it appears to be. I was just…" Hazar abruptly cut him off. Lotor wondered why the mighty Hazar was in the bowels of the ship. He did not think Hazar was that concerned what went on in these departments. Lotor, even as a logistics officer, never even dealt with them more than an occasional call over supplies even though this department was a subsection of his division. They required little resources. They were administrators with military uniforms on.

"You were supposed to report immediately to me instead I find you trying to rearrange your berthing assignment and molesting a woman." Hazar walked up to Lotor and threw him up against the wall. "I particularly requested that you two be put together…even kept the space free during your absence in case you returned. I was sort of hoping that the Emperor would find another use for you."

"Your Excellency, that is not the message Lieutenant Zandu conveyed. I am sorry if I misunderstood your orders." Lotor gritted through his teeth.

"And apology from a warmaster. Now that does make my day." Lotor felt the strong hands relax and let his feet stand firmly on the floor. He pulled down his tunic and straightened out his com badge. Deep down he wanted to crush it knowing full well that is how Hazar found him.

"Come on Lotor, we are invading Dassheros in four weeks, and you have already wasted enough time here. I need you to look over the logistics plans." Hazar turned around and looked at the lieutenant who moved as far away as she could.

"Lieutenant, I am taking a week off your leave for kissing Captain Lotor during your shift." He growled as he turned to leave.

"Sir, I protest. He kissed me. He took me by surprise." She moved to make a step forward.

"Give me a break. No woman ever was ever kissed unawares. You forget Lieutenant Willa we were all in that bar on Xenor and you were able to keep Captain Faris well at bay. He is five times pushier than this one." Lotor watched in amusement as a slight blue blush crossed her cheeks.

"That was different. It was easier. He was drunk." She fumed. Lotor watched in amusement as the young woman stood up to the overbearing general. She did not flinch. He saw sensed something else from her, a whiff of satisfaction. Hazar's emotions, however, were quite different.

"And so were you. It evened the playing field. Yet, here you showed worse judgment. He is a far better catch than Lotor. You should never play romantic games with warmasters." He walked over and whispered into her ear. "You will only get hurt."

Hazar motioned Lotor to follow him. The Commander of the Advanced Fleet turned around and saw the young officer smirking at him.

"What do you find so amusing, Korronite?" The large Drule spun full around to face Lotor.

"Your idiocy, sir." Lotor practically whispered after turning around to make sure that any fellow shipmates were not in hearing distance. Hazar not only slammed him into the wall this time but he also felt a sheathed glove crash into his jaw only to be followed by a warm trickle of blood filling his mouth.

"You have no damn respect for anyone." His commanding officer roared.

"Not true. My comment is best not discussed in places where the walls have ears." Hazar released him with a scowl and Lotor rubbed his jaw. He had not been hit that hard in awhile. He followed Hazar to his offices and watched the man sit behind the sleek desk. Lotor stood there, his hands behind his back, at full attention. Hazar had not called for it and he did not know if the boy was mocking him or not. Lotor, as always, was impressed with the space. Minimalistic, no stacks of paperwork, just the pristine desk, the monitor, and the overhang that let him overlook the bridge floor. He was on top of the Vulture's Perch. It was the most vulnerable point in the entire ship and he wondered if that was because the Commander would want to be first to die rather than see his fleet destroyed by a more powerful enemy.

"Now, Captain. Before I demote you…explain your last fucking comment." Hazar stared at the gangly youth, wondering how he could have taken so a blow to his face and not be knocked unconscious. Hazar had spent years developing his right swing and bigger men that Lotor had gone down without a problem. This too irritated him. Korronites were too damn tough for their own good.

Your Excellency, you are so damn smitten with that girl you can barely contain yourself in her presence. You need to tell her. She wants you too." Lotor mused.

"Lotor, do not lie to me." Hazar's eyes bore into him like a lazar beam. Lotor was smiling inwardly. He had struck a cord.

"Trust me. For a moment I thought she wanted me and I made my move." Lotor wondered if he had chosen his words badly as he started to see Hazar's eyes flash.

"Looking back, her desire was only triggered when I mentioned your name. She likes you very much. To be honest, I do not see why. I am sooooo much prettier, sir." His Commander almost started to laugh. As much as he disliked the young man, and he did, he did try to remember that the boy was less likely to kowtow to him. To every one else he was Captain Lotor, but deep down, Hazar was quite aware that an Imperial Crown prince was lurking under the surface.

"That is your biggest problem. You are too pretty. Some women like to make love to a man." Hazar shot back.

"Now that hurt. I have not had too many complaints." Lotor answered back, his voice feigning indignation. There was a sly smile attached to his words. The yellow eyes were dancing with merriment. Hazar's face softened. It was rare he saw the junior officer in a relaxed mood. The gentle goading continued.

"Does not count when those words are mewed by a harem slave. I heard you have quite a collection on Korrinoth. You also keep a woman on Drule. You are quite the lover boy. You would think you could keep your hands off your crewmates." Hazar bristled.

"You seem to be very up to date on my comings and goings." Lotor sighed. "Do I concern you that much? You have spies, my father has spies and I have none. I am not that interesting." Lotor said with a sigh. "Wish I was."

"And you do not? They can be useful when keeping an eye out on your enemies. Something any Drule with Imperial dealings should employ." Hazar sat back in his chair and looked over the young man. Was the boy so much a fool that he did not know how to survive the Emperor's Court?

"I do not view you as my enemy. I learned everything I ever wanted to know about you on Drule." Lotor answered back.

"Pray tell, how did you do that?" Hazar leaned forward.

"I had diner at your family home several times. Your parents, and your sister, are lovely. They are good people, their views on government aside. They gave me a tour…they let me see your private study. I asked to makes some private calls there and they gave me its use and time to look around." Lotor looked at Hazar, trying desperately to contain the small smile.

"So…there is nothing special about that room." Hazar huffed back.

"Are you kidding? What a man reads tells you what he thinks. You are quite the Republican. As much as there are those that claim that you want to be Emperor, perhaps marry your way to the throne, deep down it is not what you desire." Lotor walked over to the windows and looked into the vastness of space. Out there, he looked at the stars in their multitude, some surrounded by planets that held life. There was no order in all of this, just chaos. "It is not your path."

"You are insolent. You are not the only one of noble birth on this ship. At least ten percent of the officer core is related to some ruler in the Drule Empire. I myself am related to the Emperor." Hazar quipped.

"You are fourth cousins on your mother's side. A long way from the throne room, I assure you. I have a better claim to the throne than you. Do not think that I am unaware that you have been in negotiations with Zeppo over his oldest daughter. My father is too. It seems we are both suitors for the same loud mouthed, unpleasant bitch." Lotor mused. "Honestly, I would happily give in on this one but you were not born to settle for the mate your father chooses. I have been raised to expect it." Lotor gave the man a sad smile. "In fact, I think it has already been done and though an Imperial, she is not of Zeppo's line. Hazar, you are not a man for the brothels or to keep a mistress on the side. It does not serve you to marry a woman you do not love. It would devastate your soul."

"And not yours." Hazar retorted with more than a bit of sarcasm.

"I am beginning to think it was never there to begin with. The gods have cursed my family's house." Lotor answered in a dead voice. Hazar sat their uncomfortably looking at the man, trying to discern what drove him to make such statements.

"Do not speak religion to me. Your fanaticism disturbs the men." Hazar looked down at his desk.

"I do not discuss my beliefs with anyone. Yorak told me that it bothered my classmates at the Academy so I keep my thoughts on the subject to myself. My devotions are done when my roommate has not been present. It does not disturb the men, me executing their fellow shipmates dies. It is you that is frightened by my belief in the gods." Lotor's gaze remained transfixed.

I was there the day you killed Ravok and Utor. I saw you praying. It was terrifying. Do you not know what the fanaticism of Jain brought to the Drules?" Hazar shot back.

"Civilization, if I recall, and the destruction of my home world. I assure you, I doubt that I could pull of anything so grand with my faith." Lotor turned around.

"You are part Wyvern. They will do anything to please their gods." Hazar growled.

"Only part, sir. I am more human than anything else." Lotor said as he focused those brilliant, golden eyes on Hazar.

"One would not think it looking at you." Hazar sighed. "You look like a Westerner."

"Any more insults are have you finished? I cannot believe that you called me up here to play the insult game. That is not like you." Lotor took a deep breath. He was in an odd mood today. For once, he missed being back on Doom. He had left Fia, he was forcing himself to think of her with that name, a week ago and he missed her company. He left the warmth of her laughter, the silliness of her pranks and teasing, to come back to cold metal walls and death. There was nothing but chaos and death that awaited him here, two things he had already seen enough of. "Ask her out. You have nothing to lose and you might find love." Lotor said softly in a desperate attempt to change the subject. Hazar chuckled.

"I would think love would be the least thing you would care about, for me or anyone else. You are the son of the Demon King. It is said that the House of Diazaiba'al is incapable of love." Hazar said softly, his gravelly voice filling the space between them.

"Hardly. They suffer from its curse like the rest of the Universe. No one is immune. Actually, sometimes I count on it. I think it may the only thing that will keep my soul tethered. Unlike you, I did not have such a loving family. Your parents adore each other; they and your sister love you deeply. This is not my experience. It must be comforting at times." Lotor sat down, uninvited, in the chair on front of Hazar's desk. "I have been rarely home since my mother dies. My father sent me away at seven. I have seen my sister twice since I was five. Once, at her wedding when she did not even have time to speak to me. I just stood there in royal garb and took pictures with her, my father and her new husband; we were one big imperial family. The other time she came to my father's palace with her two youngest boys while they decided what moves Dharlock would make next. I was not invited so I decided to get to know my nephews. I spent a week playing with them. They were very cute." Lotor's hand fell to his knees. "The worst part of it was that I liked them. It would have been better if I did not. Every fiber of my being told me I should arrange an accident…be it hunting or swimming. I would remove half of my competition. Another thought was to their mother, as long as she lived, she could produce more potential heirs for my father to replace me with. I sat there, the whole week, contemplating whether I was a monster or was I just focused on my own self-preservation. Tell me, who looks as their family like that? Tell me, Hazar, if you take the throne are you willing to do what is needed to keep it. I still regret not smashing their little heads in and taking out Leanarra in the process. And I love my sister, or at least my childhood memory.

"Did you come here looking for sympathy? I have none to give." Hazar said, hoping that this would end the conversation.

"No, I came up here because you ordered me to. You seem to have forgotten that. I was just thinking that when you die you might be called a lucky man. I think that about every person I meet, except the one's I have to execute. It is a strange thought. Tell me, now that I am back on board am I going to be the ship's executioner again." Lotor's face was impenetrable as Hazar considered his statement.

"Yes, you are. In fact, when I heard of your return I postponed the next round of executions. There are five men waiting for you to carry out their sentence." Hazar said softly.

"Why me? I think owe me an explanation." Lotor responded in an flat tone.

"I do not. You are a warmaster. It is a part of your duties." Hazar's eyes narrowed. Lotor rarely challenged him. The boy had been at Court far too long and now he had a spoiled peacock instead of the killing machine that had left the _Kiros_. Court had made him soft.

"My father says if you are brave enough to pronounce the judgment to take a man's life, then you should be brave enough to look him in the eye when you ask him to pay the price. These men have committed no offense to me. If you want me to carry out your orders, I need a reason. I am tired of the lowmen looking at me with daggers in their eyes," Lotor all a sudden felt exhausted. Seven days of jumping took a wear on even the hardiest Drule.

"Three reasons." Hazar said as he looked intently on the man. The Great Commander was trying to keep his voice under control. He always assumed Lotor enjoyed the kill after watching him in the Arena, some warmasters did. He made it quick, for a man who hated the blaster he had very good aim. Yorak said he never flinched.

"First, I would prefer the lowmen to associate it with one officer. It keeps the stress down for the other commanding officers. Second, like everything else, you do it well. Take that as a compliment. I have seen other warmasters butcher the convicted." Hazar hesitated as he looked at Lotor. Lotor's eyes stared blankly at him.

"And the third….why most I always do this odious task." Lotor's tone had turned colder. There was a sharpness in it that surprised Hazar. He honestly did not think the executions bothered the man.

"You are the son of the Demon King. You will be asked to do things 1,000 times worse than that. Think of it as your training ground." Hazar said. "I have taught you to look a man in the eye and kill him."

Lotor got up and looked at Hazar in the eye. He shook his head and smiled.

"I am the Crown Prince of Doom. I will not die a lucky man." He ran his hair through his long hair as his own self-fulfilling prophecy came pouring from his lips. For an instant, Hazar saw a thin, scrawny vulnerable boy. "Hazar, by the time my father is through with me my crimes will be a million fold."

"More. Korronites practice genocide when a population does not capitulate." Hazar's distaste, even hatred of the Demon King's policy of total war, were well known. He had written paper after paper refuting it and had, at times, publicly stated in both his circulated papers a the various academies and the press, how the Demon King was hazardous to the survival of the Empire. He was shocked to find the boy, the living flesh of that tyrant, posted on his ship. He wondered what the Emperor was thinking.

"Why did the Emperor send you back? You were the perfect liaison." Hazar's fingers were laced together. His penetrating stare did not falter. Lotor looked at those hands and rubbed his face. The man hit hard, not as hard as Yorak or his father, but it was respectable punch for a Modern Drule.

"Your spies were not as good as you hoped. Your real question is why did he not keep his political hostage close by? It took me awhile to figure you why you would have sent me to Court, to leapfrog me over the other for a promotion. Did he ask for me or did you recommend me." A small smile crossed Lotor's face. Hazar did not need to say a word. Lotor knew what the answer was. Hazar wanted him out of the picture. "In short, I served no purpose. The Emperor was smart. He would have been too tempted to imprison or kill me the next time my father pulled some outrageous stunt or did not hand over the proper tribute. My father, I think, would have placed me in an unenviable position. It would not have been the first time he used me to start a pissing match." Lotor said sadly. "I am just another one of his possessions, a tool. The Emperor is a smart man; it would have been a foolish move."

"Are you telling me the Emperor is afraid of Zarkon?" Hazar leaned back into his chair and roared with laughter.

"Not at all, but he is wary. The Ninth Kingdom would not be easy to take and the Empire's resources are spread thin. Few in your forces have ever confronted a robeast and we do keep quite a large inventory." Lotor said with a smile. "The advantages of having a Wyvern witch at your disposal; though you do have to put up with all that praying to the dark gods. " Lotor paused and took a deep breath. "My father is annoyed both at the Emperor and Council. The Emperor is demanding more and more of the Ten Kingdoms and Meer have decided it is the Korronites that should pick up the brunt of it. I have not revealed any great secrets there. We still do not have the same rights and privileges as most Drules." Lotor gave Hazar an accusatory glance.

"Under the law they do." Hazar shot back. "It is there fault if they do not take advantage of that the Supremacy has to offer. Your people keep themselves separate from the other Kingdoms. They barely leave Korrinoth unless it is for trade or by conscription. They choose to live an antiquated existence." Hazar said, not wanting to let Lotor's point slide.

"Should one want to associate with their previous masters? The memory of our enslavement has been passed down for hundreds of years." Lotor sighed. "It is not easy for my people. They have a great distrust of the Modern Drule as you do us."

"Funny, as far as anyone can see you are the biggest slavers of all." Hazar was getting annoyed. He, like most Drules, had no love for the Korronites. They scared most Drules. They were viewed as uneducated, driven by their religious beliefs and prone to violence.

"We learned from the best. When you look at us, you still see ignorant slaves good for doing your dirty work." Lotor's eyes had turned a dark shade of gold. "Like executing my fellow soldiers." Lotor said.

"I am not relieving you of that responsibility." Hazar shot back. 'Do not think you can guilt me."

"You cannot feel guilty unless you accept that you have done something wrong." Lotor shook his head. "You are right; I am the best man for the job. There deaths should weigh heavier on me then they do. I am a flawed creature." Lotor paused. He did not want to think about that particular subject. "Zandu says I am back doing logistics again. I thought that after Taran you might find me more useful doing something else." Lotor looked expectantly at Hazar.

"You were excellent at logistics, an underrated skill. Captain Lotor, you can kill off half my command staff and all of my ground commanders and I am never letting you strategize or pull off another campaign again." Hazar looked at Lotor and sighed.

"I'm that good, huh." Lotor was positively grinning.

"You are dismissed. Get the fuck out of my office and find another officer to torture." Hazar grumbled back.

_Yes, you son of a bitch, you are that good. Good enough, with your father's armies and his seemingly endless lazon supply, to take down the Imperium. I am looking at controlling the throne and you are not getting in the way._ Hazar looked at his computer screen and brought of the picture of a Lieutenant Willa. She was beautiful and smart. His parents would have loved her. He could have died a happy man in her arms. He sighed. Somehow, he was going to marry the Emperor's daughter, a woman he could not even stand being in the same room with. He shut off the picture and his heart ached. Lotor was right. He was madly in love with the young woman and he was going to let her slip away. He had found every excuse to make his way down to her offices, even telling Zandu to send Lotor down there before reporting to him so he could chew him out and get a glimpse of her. He had even started having her followed during shore leaves so he could find his way to the same bars, something that did not appeal to him. It did not help that he walked into find that damn smug Korronite kissing her. He was furious at both of them. The woman was his. He had changed all the ships regulations, letting men and women fraternize, just so he could spend what little free time with her. It was pitiful.

III

Lotor stood outside the door for the first fifteen minutes, steeling himself for what he would find inside. In his mind he knew what the room should look like but he knew the reality would be different. No one bothered the quants. After he left Hazar he had found his new office. It was empty save the standard issue. The departing logistics officer in his position had left a list of monthly reports he needed to acquire. Lotor was sure that he was thrilled that he would not have to train an incoming officer. Lotor hit the computer and using Horan's programs quickly produced the reports. Horan was not a bad guy; he was perhaps one of the nicest officers on this ship. They had some good times together.

Lotor looked up his service record and he had received several awards for his fuel mixes. And Horan was right, everyone left the quants alone. No one inspected their room or uniforms. They were the necessary to get a ship from here to there and no one was looking to get these particular officers upset.

Lotor punched in the room code and the door slide open. He found his bags placed on an unmade bed. The other bed was filled with what looked like several weeks, if not months, of laundry. He was half expecting Horan to rise out of the pile and try to scare him. Lotor turned around immediately and went to the commissary. He bought everything he could think of to get the room in order. Garbage bags, laundry baskets, cleaning supplies and for him, bedding and towels, along with a multitude of hair care products. He knew he would not sleep until the room, and both sides of it, was in order. Before he left the commissary, his eyes focused on the latest gaming platform. He threw that in with a large monitor that he figured he and Horan could install. He was going to try to be more, as the ensign said, sociable.

By the time he got back, Horan was there hunched over his computer terminal. He turned around and actually gave Lotor a huge smile. Lotor let out a tremendous sigh.

"You have been gone a long time." Horan sheepishly said. "Do not worry. I will clean everything up? I have not had a roommate since you left so I fell back into my old patterns."

"Hello, Horan." Lotor bit his tongue. He was going to try to deal with it. His urge to get started was overwhelming. Horan, on the other hand, went to the refrigerator and took out those sugar filled, caffeinated drinks he so loved. He plopped down in his chair and went back to work. Lotor, in these cases, liked to stare a person into submission. Horan, however, just ignored these non-verbal attempts at compliance.

"Which berth is mine?" Horan pointed to the one covered with regulation t-shirts and military tunics. He did not get up to help Lotor move the large mass. There were perhaps fifty or more smelly shirts to start sorting. "Do you ever send your laundry out?"

"My fiancé usually does but she has hardly been here since the invasion planning has gone into full swing. I just keep buying shirts every day; it is easier than washing them. Is that why you are here? Have you come back to plan Hazar's next brilliant campaign." Horan was starting to talk now. He could get pretty animated when a topic interested him. Lotor was not that interested in this invasion, the previous logistics officer had already laid out a satisfactory plan and Lotor was not inspired to tweak it, as he was obviously being shuffled off to the back of the room. He as more interested to hear not only how Horan had somehow secured a female to agree to be his mate, and more importantly, she had managed to visit their room on a regular basis.

"Commander Hazar lifted the rules that prohibited fraternization with the females. There were some problems at first, but things have calmed down." Horan ran over to his desk and found a frame with a more than attractive woman's picture in it. She had green eyes and blond hair. "Her name is Berri. She is in charge of one of the forward gun batteries. We are getting married when her next tour of duty ends. She will get posted on Drule until I finish up my rotation."

"Congratulations." Lotor sensed a deep pride overcoming Horan as he took the picture back. Lotor shook his head. First Hazar, than Horan, were acting like love struck fools. Lotor almost felt jealous as he continued his excavations. Three days later, he pronounced the space livable. He happily paid for Horan's dry cleaning and even gave him an extra closet to contain his mountain of clothes. Horan was thrilled with the arrival of the media center and Lotor and he started to play some games together. Lotor actually found the virtual swords game to be most amusing because Horan consistently beat him each and every time. Berri, was not as infrequent as Horan had suggested. In fact, she was practically living there. Lotor had to learn to call home before walking in. For once, Horan seemed to be getting much more action than Lotor was. He did not know why but now that they were allowed to date he had gone from the forbidden fruit to an untouchable. He was having a dry spell of epic proportions. Depressed, and trying to boost his ego, he sent many notes to Sharra who would usually write him something back by nightfall. He tried to keep the notes as non-commital as possible but she would usually write something erotic which fueled his unsatisfied desires.

Id did not help that Berri ran around half clad. He almost lost it when he found her in his favorite lounge set. Her excuse that his clothes, because he was smaller, fit better than Horan's drove him closer to the breaking point. Lotor had hoped when Horan said that she did his laundry that she would be a civilizing force on Horan, but she was barely neater than he was. Soon, Lotor was picking up after both of them.

Horan had his own complaints. Lotor practically lived in the bathroom every morning. Horan kept his hair regulation cut. He could get in and out of the shower in 10 minutes flat with a shave to boot. Lotor, who had no need to shave, took forever. His hair alone could take up to an hour to wash, condition and brush out. Sometimes, he even put a long braid down the back. Occasionally, Horan would accidentally touch it and once he got it trapped under his elbow which could cause Lotor to go into a long rant if he was in a particularly bad mood. Frantic to take a morning piss, Horan would start to knock on all the other officers' berths begging to use their lavatories. This would go on several times a week and soon the complaints were piling up in the Housing Department. Lotor knew his commanding officer would be notified as well as Horan's when they went down to meet in front of the Resolution Committee. The Resolution Committee, until recently, had comprised of one Lieutenant Willa. Now, it seemed, Commander Hazar was taken some interest in roommate fights. Lotor almost had to smile when he kept seeing his Commander at meeting after meeting. Oddly enough, Hazar said little and let Lieutenant Willa lecture them for about thirty minutes or so about being good neighbors. Hazar never added any other threat. Horon and Lotor would leave, each still seething under the collar, while Lotor could hear laughter behind her closed doors. Lotor did not think Hazar had planned this; Lotor and Horan had always fought before but nothing to this level so the Commander could not have anticipated the level of animosity that surrounded them this year. Berri was the new part of the equation. Hazar just lucked out with another excuse to see his favorite officer and was not going to do anything to keep the goose from laying the golden eggs.

The thing that began to really eat at Lotor was that they were hogging his media center. Either they were snuggling in front of a movie or playing a video game. It had all started innocently enough. It was a stupid game where a prince was trying to save a princess and had to complete a series of dangerous quests to rescue her and ask for her hand in marriage. Horan had bought the game for Berri since she complained that all they had were shoot em up games. Lotor became obsessed with it. Every day, he got a little bit closer to completing all the missions until he was one quest away from asking the Princess to marry him. His obsession with the game became the running joke at night when Berri was there. Horan and Berri decided to play a joke. Berri invited her friend over and the game he worked for a solid month on, the game that helped him relax after fielding a hundred logistics problems every day to get this stupid invasion off the ground, simply disappeared. It had been overwritten by Berri's best friend. He tried to remain calm. He even agreed to start all over again, but Horan pointed out that the game was his, there were only three slots and he got to chose who got which one. Horan really did not care about his slot, he just wanted to get Lotor going. The frustration in Lotor was building. He hated Horan. He hated Berri who would give him those telling looks and the uncomfortable pauses in conversation that basically indicated that three was a crowd. Lotor found himself sleeping on a cot he would assemble in his office or running the track in the gym until they were finished with their nightly couplings. The only saving grace was Hazar did not allow sleepovers, so Lotor did at least manage a morning shower in the privacy of his own stall.

One day, Lotor came in and just stared at the hated monitor. He then went over to Horan's desk and turned on his computer. He inserted a stick which proceeded to wipe everything that was on Horan's computer. Lotor was sure that month's of work were going up in smoke. He lay in his bed and watched the happy couple stroll in. Berri had already given the look that basically told Lotor to leave. He decided to comply as he watched Horan turn on his monitor and start slamming his fingers into the keyboard.

"Who the fuck touched my computer?" Horan yelled as he turned and caught a smirk on the face of the departing Lotor. He never expected Horan, gentle Horan, to go berserk on him. For a moment, he was as good as Zarkon. Lotor heard his nose break and then his ribs as he fell to the floor. The last thing he heard was a ringing in his ears before he fell unconscious. He woke up the infirmary, his head was swollen and he had a splitting headache.

"Captain Lotor, are you with us?" Lotor could barely focus on the doctor as he put him through the normal head injury questions. Soon after he awoke, he found Hazar and Yorak standing there.

"Horan said someone must have broken into your room and attacked you. He thinks it must have been a lowman looking for revenge. The room, including the computers and the media center, were totally trashed, the room looks like a tornado came through it. We could not see anything on the security tapes. Your room halos were wiped clean by an expert. Hazar looked almost concerned as he reached down. "Lotor, did you see your attacker?"

"No, sir. I did not." Lotor said through swollen lips.

"We will do our best to find him. You focus on getting better. The invasion went off smoothly. Good work." Hazar left. He had only come by when he was sure he could be awakened

"How long have I been out?" Lotor murmured. It was Yorak that answered.

"Five days. Can you believe someone put you out for five days. Must have been another warmaster. I would have paid to see that." Lotor saw a nasty grin spread across Yorak's face. Lotor returned to a room of smashed electronics and tossed belonging. Lotor sighed. He was still in a lot of pain as he got out his bucket, his cleaners and his paper towels. At night, Horan started to stay out very late with Berri and now he never saw his roomie as Horan made sure he slipped in and out of the room when Lotor was either sleeping or pulling a double shift to make sure the occupying force was getting all the supplies they needed. Lotor was feeling more alone than ever.

IV

"How does a captured civilian concern me? This is a security matter Yorak, call Captain Therein." Lotor grumbled at his door. Yorak was standing there barking at him to get dressed and come down to the holding area. "I have not been trained in interrogations. That duty befalls an intelligence officer. Do I have to do everyone's job around here?" Yorak growled back. "Let me brush my teeth and comb my hair at least."

"That could take an hour. Lotor, hurry the fuck up." Yorak stepped into the room. He laughed to himself, as usual, it was pristine. Lotor spent a lot of time keeping the barracks pristine while they were in school. Some anonymous person had even hired a cleaning team every other day. Yorak had spent years wondering which cadet, or their parent, had the means to do so. He should have known it was the obsessively neat cadet in the last bunk. How many days did Yorak find him remaking his bed, and occasionally out of sheer need, another student's.

"Horan must hate you." Yorak called out over the running water.

"Not really. He just thinks of me as his maid." Lotor called back. He knew exactly what Yorak was referring to. Their fight had been the ship gossip for weeks. "We have an agreement. I clean and he makes a mess." Lotor quipped as he came out of the bathroom, bedraggled but presentable.

"This is my first rest period in two days." Lotor complained as they left. "I am healing a lot slower than usual because no one lets me sleep."

"You wanted to be a warmaster." Yorak chuckled back.

"Why do they want me to do the interrogation?" Lotor asked. He looked at Yorak quizzically but Yorak just shrugged.

"Captain Therein said you would be able to speak to these people. You know a lot of languages." Lotor nodded.

"Therein is a linguistics prodigy, he speaks at least a dozen more than I do." Lotor shook his head.

"But he does not speak this one and they do not speak Drule." Yorak said in the elevator as they made their way down.

"Yorak, what do they speak. Therein speaks every language that I do." Lotor sighed. He was exhausted. He was still recovering from the beating that Horan had given him and he was tirelessly going over logistics reports for the upcoming invasion of Dassheros.

"He does not speak Arusian." Yorak said quietly. "I told him that you have probably not spoken it inn years. That you might not remember. At least with your bragging, I never heard it mentioned." Yorak said as he motioned Lotor to step forward.

"I remember how." Lotor said as he peered into the room holding one human tied to a chair. Captain Therein was standing over him bellowing. The human did not comprehend. The frightened man watched as the two Drules conversed. Lotor staring at the man and looking at the pile of documents the intelligence officer handed him. He saw the smaller of the Drules, the one with the stark white hair and pinnacled ears and gasped, Lotor's ears heard the sound that hinted at some sort of startled surprise though it was inaudible to the Modern Drule. He turned and looked at the man wondering what could have triggered it. The man's overriding fear blocking out any other emotion. But Lotor was sure of what he heard.

"According to Captain Therein here, you do not speak Modern Drule, just some Korronite dialect. And even that you do poorly?" Lotor sat calmly at the table. His Arusian accent was almost as good as a natives.

"Sir, you speak Arusian? That is rare for a Drule." The man looked Lotor in the face. There was a hatred behind his stare. And why should the man like him. His eyes betrayed his Korronite heritage. His father had destroyed their world leaving their people to live in mud huts and caves. Lotor looked at the thin man. He was exhausted. The man could not be more than three or four years older than he was but he looked as if he had lived for twenty more than that. He noticed that he seemed preoccupied with the corner. Lotor quickly scanned the room and saw a cane in the corner. The man watched where Lotor's eyes went.

"They took it away. It makes it harder for me to escape." The man looked at Lotor, his words terse.

"If you could leave this ship, where would you go? What was your destination before you wandered into our airspace. This is a military zone." Lotor said quietly.

"It wasn't a few months ago. My navigational computer has not been upgraded recently.

"You did not answer my question. Where were you headed to?"

"Arus. I was going to Arus. I have my papers. I am a freed slave of the Ninth Kingdom. Everything was in order." Lotor leaned over and whispered. "I have seen your forged documents." He watched the man's eyes grow wide and he felt the panic rise. Lotor knew the papers were originals. The man was technically doing nothing illegal. He was just the victim of circumstance. He was in the wrong place at the right time. Lotor was teasing him a bit. It was if the man was a mouse and he was playing with a prey he had no intention of eating.

"My Lord, I protest. They are legal. They are signed by the Magistrate of Heronoth. I was a house servant to Warmaster Finos. He died three years ago and manumitted me upon his death." The man said.

"And the flyer. How did the deed of such a fine one come about?" Lotor asked. He already knew the answer when the man mentioned Finos's name. This man, obviously, had been one of his recent pets. The man had no women, and therefore, no children. He knew Finos had a favorite slave, a human who was crippled after being attacked by a certain Drule.. He found that human to be a particularly poignant prize. Lotor sighed. He knew how the man recognized him. He knew why Finos had treasured him as he happily retold the story in his father's court. And he knew how that man had managed to stay alive during the last few years of Finos life. In the end, he should have been happy that Finos died before he bored of him. The man earned his freedom and obviously wealth from their few years together.

"I knew Finos." Lotor said. "I know who you are." At that, Lotor switched to Korrinoth. The man answering back. Its hard syllables seemed to match the tone of the conversation.

"And I recognize you too, I cannot forget the eyes of the person that did this to me. I did not expect to see you here. I assumed you had died from the deadly blows we landed on you if one believed the lies of the Korrinoth press." The man sighed and cursed his goddess. "Fate is a funny thing. I lost the use of my leg that day. You ruined my life."

"No, I just might have saved it. Why are going to Arus? There is nothing there. Answer me truthfully and I will make sure they let you go." The man looked down at the table. "Human, I can tell if you are lying? I have no compunction to settle what you started years ago."

"Of course you wouldn't. I barely survived that night. You walked away with a bloody nose and we were the ones that were hospitalized, and in Philo's case, buried. But he was just the first funeral that day brought forth, was it not Prince Lotor?" Therein heard the Modern Drule title and turned around. He was going to ask Lotor what the man meant by calling him that appellation but was distracted by Yorak.

"You are going to blame the ten year old me for the war between our people. Your planet would still be there, still be intact, if your rulers had capitulated like they did on Pollux." Lotor said angrily. He would not bear the blame for the fall of Arus alone. . He did not land the first blow, the humans did. If the Arusians wanted to blame anybody they should look to their weak rulers and the fool Coran that advised them. If only Alfor had caved into his father's demands both he and his family would be alive today. Lotor cursed the memory of that stubborn man every day. King Alfor should have surrendered, being a puppet king was better than being a dead one. Lotor looked at the man, any fleeting guilt about his injury or pity for the years he suffered Finos's bed, was quickly becoming eroded

"It was the injuries you supposedly sustained that night…" The man continued but Lotor slammed his fists down. "I was just an excuse, a tool, a catalyst…it was inevitable. My father, from the first time his scouts brought back reports of Arus, was determined to seize it. Do not put this on me. I have enough of my own sins to bear. The goddess of Arus has cursed both your people and me. Keturah has never shown me an ounce of compassion. I spit on her." Kotor stood up. His eyes were flashing like molten gold. The man cringed as he saw a hint of orange well up. He had seen that look before and he grew terrified. Therein was looking at his fellow officer wondering if the interrogation was getting a little too heated. There was a reason that warmasters did not generally take part in them. Therein approached but he heard a menacing growl escape Lotor's lips, Lotor was barely listening as he heard Yorak tell Therein to back away unless he felt like a trip to the infirmary.

"Once again, human. Why were you going to Arus? I am not to be trifled with. Not when I was a child, and even less now." Lotor leaned over. He was one step from crushing the man's windpipe. His hands were clutching the shaking man's neck.

"I heard a rumor, that is all." The man weakly said. Lotor still kept his grip until the man's lips were turning a shade of blue that almost matched Lotor's. Lotor watched silently as the man's manacled writs grabbed uselessly at his. He had forgotten how much stronger he was than a human. It had been so long since he had compared such a thing. He watched the man's eyes start to bulge out, his body aching for oxygen. Finally he let go and watched him collapse against the table. The man lay still as he tried to take in air.

"A rumor does not make one fly half way across the galaxy." Lotor retorted. His hand stroked the hair away from his face. There was almost a tenderness to his touch, further confusing Therein who was worried that his prisoner would be dispatched to the hereafter without any answers.. He looked over at Yorak who immediately relaxed, the look of anger the other man knew so well had dissipated from the warmaster. Lotor thought about what he had already taken from the man and what further cruelties had befallen him by Finos. Finos had bragged about his trophy in court. He had even offered to take Lotor to see his new plaything. What games did this man have to play to stay alive in that fiend's hands to stay alive, and more so, to gain his affections. He imagined the man turning back his lips, in a sneer that a Drule would take for a smile, and forcing words of adoration to come out as Finos took what he wanted. What had all of them lost that day? A whole world paid for the equivalent of what should have been a bad dream; a bad dream that had turned into a nightmare that he would never wake up from. The attack was inevitable, his father had lusted after Arus since Althea's death, wanting to punish an entire world for the madness of a woman. Arus suffered for him, because of him. She was going to take him to Arus that night. She was going to steal away the only male heir to the Korrinoth throne and bring him to that sun kissed world, out of the shadows of Korrinoth. Zarkon killed her in that belief. No one ever found or detected the take off of a ship that night or found the mysterious warmaster she had been speaking to Althea that night. They could have been ghosts. They must have been…for a moment he had seen them. He remembered her mother running toward the ship. He remembered the tall man that was standing in front of it. And then he saw a flash of light and all he remembered after that was the hunters and the witch who did nothing to stop them. One word for her and they would have. She could have healed his mother's anguish…or he thought, caused it. He watched the man took another gasp of air.

"This one did." He finally croaked out.

"Are we going to play this game all night. I do not think you will survive. Spit it out man or you will be spitting teeth from that lovely mouth." Lotor looked over and gave a leer. "I heard you were quite adept in using it." He saw tears form in the man's eyes.

"A man told me that he House of Altarus lives. I was a nobleman's son once. We were sworn to protect them. We played together as children. I thought..I thought..." The man started to sob as if his very spirit had been broken. "I thought I could go back and find her. Find myself, my honor again. I always blamed myself for what happened. I to played a role in that horrible night." Lotor's ears could barely process the words. Perhaps he heard wrong, the man was sobbing.

"Who's alive? They were all massacred. I saw the holos for myself." Lotor whispered. Therein trying to discern what was going on. He cursed himself for not knowing either Arusian or Korrinite, for the men had spoken both languages. He looked at Yorak who claimed not to know what they were saying Yorak had heard enough, knew enough of the Korrinoth dialect, to know that these two were not discussing air space rights anymore. Then the men switched back into Arusian, leaving him as shut out as the other officer. Yorak sighed, He new he was about to miss something important and it galled him. As much as he kept an arm's length away from Lotor, he could not admit that there was a certain fascination with this Imperial. He was not like Skath. Lotor was living in another realm of existence from the rest of them.

"They say that the Princess Allura lives." He whispered as his tears flowed. "I wanted to offer my services to her. My family has served the House of Altarus for generations. I needed to get my family's honor back"

"A one legged warrior for a princess long dead, the joke I fear is on you. The gods only want to torture me so they send me you as a reminder to the last day I ever felt any real happiness. She died. I saw it with my own yes. Allura is dead." Yorak and Therein watched Lotor wipe away a few tears as he released the man's manacles. Therein and Yorak stood in shock as he watched him speak softly to the man. And then Yorak heard Lotor says something in Korrinoth that he could not mistake for anything else. "I loved her so much. I am so sorry." Yorak shook his head wondering what in the gods' names was Lotor apologizing for. He never offered one unless it served his purposes.

'Therein, the man is innocent. Let him go." Lotor said emphatically.

"You have no right to free him, that is my decision. I have decided he is a threat to the Empire, and therefore, termination is warranted." Therein answered back.

"He is a manumitted slave of the Ninth Kingdom. He has broken no laws. His papers are in good order and he poses no threat." Lotor turned his stare towards the intelligence officer. "He has rights. He is protected by the Crown." Lotor fumed.

"I do not see Zarkon here, Korronite. As far as Korrinoth knows he died in an unfortunate accident. It will save us a lot of paperwork; not to mention repair work. He is just a fucking Arusian. I thought you Korronites hated them anyway." At that Yorak backed away. He had seen that look before in Lotor's eyes. He knew what was coming. He wondered if Lotor was going to get any time in the brig. Hazar was still establishing the occupation force and Lotor was in charge of the logistics. He was trying to remember who would step in to replace him. Oh yes, he thought, Lieutenant Avery. He sighed when he saw the first punch land smack into Therein's nose. He was half expecting it. Lotor usually went for the nose or a head but first. He winced when he herd the first arm break and sighed when it was followed by the cracking of a few ribs. By then Therein was yelling for Yorak to break it up cursing at the ensign for not pulling off Lotor earlier. Lotor, himself, was surprised that Yorak waited so long.

Lotor and Yorak watched the medics carry out Therein. One of them gave Lotor a disgusted look. Lotor calmly got on the com and ordered the repairs of the Arusian's ship. He then got on the com to the Commander and emphatically stated that this man was no danger to the operations or the ship. He was just a poor soul who had got caught up in something big. Best to throw the little fish back in the pond with an escort back into neutral space, that is, after his ship was fixed.

"You forgot to tell Hazar that you were about to be arrested." Lotor laughed and turned to Yorak.

"I'll give your captain the pleasure of informing him." Lotor said with a smile.

"You did not have to use the breaking arts. They will whip you for that." Yorak looked at the human sitting in the corner. He had never felt the whip before but he knew it was agony. Lotor did not even flinch at the suggestion, instead he was almost jubilant.

"It was totally worth it. Such a fucking asshole. I wish my father was here…tell that shit to Zarkon's face and there would have been nothing to clean up. One last thing before you haul me off." Lotor was on the com with the head of engineering. "I am sure it will be an easy fix. It is in Landing Bay 7. Put a level one priority on it. Trust me, you'll be eating _fetari_ out of your ears next quarter." Lotor was chuckling to himself when he closed the com.

"I hate _fetar_i. Tastes like warmed over milk curds. Last time I had it I spent a day out on sick leave." Yorak groaned.

"It basically is with robeast's innards mixed in. It is considered a delicacy in the Fifth Kingdom. Never tried it myself; Korronites and dairy do not mix. I guess your stomach is where you keep those savage genes hiding." Lotor looked over at Yorak and patted the big man on the back. "Thank you for keeping Therein distracted. On the next shore leave I will take you out to the finest restaurant. And then we will drink and whore the night away, my treat." Lotor looked at the Arusian and gave a small wave. The man, exhausted and spent, started to cry again. Lotor, at that point, threw all doubt about predestination out the window. He had a destiny to fulfill. The man had been a sign from the gods. What was the chance of him running into an Arusian in deep space, coupled with the fact that this was one of the children who made him leave Arus on less than good circumstances. Then, on top of it, to find out that Allura might not have perished in the massacre. The news was enough to send him sailing. The dark gods were generous at times too. Perhaps this was a reward for his devotion to Batak.

Hazar was beyond furious. He stood and watched Lotor take the lashes. The boy lasted longer than most before he cried out. The doctors tended to the lazon burns and Lotor was escorted back to a holding cell. After a few hours, he saw the door open and Yorak slip in.

"I traded shifts for the week. Thought you could use the company. I have cards." Yorak smiled, the toothy grin seemed unnatural on him. It was the first friendly smile the man ever gave him.

"Why did you let me hit him. You saw it coming?" Lotor propped himself up as best as possible. The excruciating burns still sliced into him. He knew it would take another day or two before he was functional.

"You look like you needed to hit someone. He seemed like a good candidate. Who was she? Who did you love? How did you know that man?"

"We were children. We fought and I gave him t spiral break and a compound one in the same leg. At least, that is what the medical report said. They pinned him back together." Yorak shrugged.

"Fighting with a human slave, not fair Lotor." Yorak said as he pulled out the cards.

"No, he was a nobleman on Arus brought low by slavery later on. Now, that he is free, all he wants is to get his honor back." Lotor looked at his cards. "I was never any good at cards, but I will try." Lotor took the first two hands.

"Liar." Yorak answered back, knowing unless a miracle occurred, Lotor would win this round. "And this person you love?"

"She was a little girl. She is long dead." Lotor sighed, the heavy exhale and inhale stung against he bandages.

"But you loved her. They say that the House Daizaiba'al cannot love. You should be proud you proved them wrong. You did good in there. Shows me that there is something more than a monster in there."

"Cannot love. Everything we do, we do for love. Love of power, love of money, love of the flesh. You name it, we will do whatever it takes to fulfill our obsessions and desires. That is why we are so successful at getting what we want." Lotor put down the next hand. "Thank the gods that we are not playing for money. You would have to be my security officer for the rest of your life."

"Do not be fooled. I still do not like you Carris." Yorak took the deck and dealt again.

"No, but you want to work for me. You want to align yourself with the House of Daizaiba'al." Lotor softly said. "I do not require your friendship, just your loyalty."

"Yes, my Prince." Yorak looked down. His submission was noted.

"Yorak, why the change of heart?" Lotor said with a smirk. "How come you find me so irresistible today? Is it because I'm torn and beaten? Here I lie absolutely vulnerable and it warms your heart."

"I want to be on the winning side for once and you could use a set of bigger fists." Yorak answered back. "The _Imperium_ is cracking. I can feel it."

"Yes it is. It is dying and nobody cares." Lotor looked solemnly.

"This saddens you." Yorak looked at Lotor and shook his head.

"Of course it does." Lotor rubbed his eyes.

"Because you are an _Imperial_. I was a fool to think you different." Yorak threw down his hand.

"Pick them up, we are not finished. For it to die, something must take its place. Birth is a violent process. It is terrifying to even comprehend what it will take to bring it down." Lotor's eyes focused on the cards.

"But you do, you think about it all the time." Yorak mused.

"Trying to get me on treason, Yorak. You will have to better than that. Time to lay them down. _Kerosh_. " Lotor smiled as he splayed his hand.

"You cheated. There is no way you could have won five hands in a row." Yorak looked at his hand. He did not know he did it. He had dealt every hand.

"I won. That was the point of any game. You win at any cost." Lotor sighed and leaned back into his bed. He hoped that someone would come by and give him some more pain relievers. He really could use something to take the edge off. Cards only did so much.

"Even when you hurt those around you. Lotor, no one will ever trust you." Yorak brought him a glass of water.

"It's alright Yorak, it works out in the end. I can never trust anyone either. " Lotor turned to face the wall. "It's the price you to pay for being an _Imperial_."

IV

Three times Lotor accessed the royal archives and three times the file he wanted was blocked. He had the highest clearance, yet he could not get in. It made no sense. Another encryption code, a very complicated one, had been placed on the file. He swallowed his pride and went to the only person he knew could help him. He stood behind the meticulously cleaned desk. They had barely spoken a word in the last month. Horan had not even come to visit him in the brig. Horan, as much as they always fought, always backed down. Lotor had felt bad when it all happened, but he could not bring himself to apologize. The man had attacked him from behind. He had sent him to the infirmary. He had bested him. A computer programmer had bested him.

"Horan, I need your help." Horan looked up from a slightly mess desk. Lotor was still out on a medical and he could not help himself. "I'm sorry for deleting your files. I was wrong."

"You must really want something very badly to apologize to me." Horan turned around and looked at Lotor. "I am sorry for hurting you. I never meant to hit you that hard."

"I did not think you had it in you. You should consider a career change. You took down a warmaster. They should place that on your service record." Lotor was grinning from ear to ear.

"Flattery now, Lotor do you need another subroutine so you can sit on your fat ass in the officer's lounge and chase women while the rest of us slave away?" Horan returned the smile.

"Horan, I need you to break through an encryption code." Lotor's voice was haggard.

"On the ship…no big deal." Horan shrugged.

"Not on the ship." Lotor called Horan over to his console. He turned on the monitor and Horan watched in awe as Lotor practically waltzed through the Ninth Kingdom's computer system..

"How did you get those? It took me three years to break into the Tenth Kingdom's Royal Archives." Horan whistled. Lotor's fingers flew across the keyboards. "Lotor, I was almost executed the first time I did this. No more."

"I am not hacking. I have full access to the Archives. It was the first file that was ever restricted to me. This is the file. I need it opened." Lotor looked intently at Horan who shook his head.

"Lotor the only one that has access to those files are the Ninth Kingdom's top echelon. I am not having King Zarkon and his goons after me. Forget it."

"Horan, I have clearance. I have access. Please, look at this." Lotor got up and gave him his seat. Horan spent the next four hours at the console. Lotor usually did not watch him. Now he studied him like prey. Horan remained fixated on the screen. He was bringing up one program after another.

"It's a beautiful program. Looks like the work of the Delos Corporation." Horan went to the refrigerator and sucked down another one of his overly caffeinated drinks.

"Can you break into it?" Lotor looked expectantly at his roommate.

"I already did." Horan sat back down. "The file is downloading now. Now, are you going to tell me how you broke past Zarkon's firewall? It is supposed to be the toughest one in the Denubian galaxy to crack."

"I told you, I knew the codes. I would rather not discuss it." A box was blinking on the computer. It required one more step to open up.

"For once, you are going to tell the truth. You seem to have more money than the gods, you were sent off to the Emperor's Court, years ahead of schedule, and you have access to a royal archives of the Demon King. Do not give me that I am a warmaster bullshit." Horan stood in front of the computer. "If I am going to break the law, I want to know whose hanging me out to dry."

"No one cares about this file but me." Lotor said.

"And the person who encrypted it. It must of cost a hell of a lot of lazon to do this. People with this much lazon can make people disappear without a trace." Horan shook his head. "Lotor what the fuck did you get me involved in? I can keep a secret."

"Would you believe me if I told you I was the Crown Prince of Doom? " At that Horan cracked up, the tears rolling down his face. Lotor watched him type a 7, 5 and a 4 into his computer. The holo started to play. This time Lotor did not look away.

"I remember this. This was the holo of Zarkon killing the royal family of Arus. All this encryption for something that played on the feeds. It should have been easy to find." Horan said.

"They are highly edited. This was the raw footage. All you see is the murder of the child and that occurred quickly." Lotor stared at the video again and again. It was Borak who handed over the girl. He was not Allura. Borak handed over a screaming girl but her hair was too dark. Her lips, the mouth he remembered so well, was different. There was a resemblance, enough in all the madness that Zarkon might not notice that the wrong girl was slain. But Borak had met Allura, he had spoken to her over a dozen times, the man had a didactic memory. Borak gave Zarkon a different child to slaughter.

Lotor turned off the computer monitor. He lay down on his bed and started to cry. At first, he cried because he could dare dream that Allura was still alive. His heart was filled with joy at the prospect of seeing her again. He had already planned on going back to Arus and tracking her down. He would bring her back to Korrinoth, he would keep her safe forever. He would make up for everything his father did to her. Later, his thoughts turned to Borak. The man who loved children more than any other person he never knew, the ultimate father, had handed over a child for Zarkon to murder. It must have destroyed him. He knew, deep down, that Borak would only betray his father if he thought it would serve the throne. He spent the rest of the night wondering how Allura's survival benefitted the throne of Korrinoth. He tossed and turned, remembering the Arusian desperate to return home, wondering how long before those very rumors of her survival would find their way to the Demon King's court. He sighed wondering if the man who prided himself on doing the impossible had gone too far.

He woke up and saw several printouts on Horan's desk. For all his messiness, Horan rarely left a paper trail, Lotor walked over; a part of him uneasy. It was several articles about a certain Crown Prince. Most of the articles were without a picture, but if one could sort through enough of them, they were there. The pointed ears, the lush mane of white hair, the brilliant golden eyes and the smirk were staring at him. He did not know when half of these pictures were taken, probably at court events.

"Shall I start calling you, Your Highness now." Horan's face was almost white as he came out of the shower. "All these years, and I never knew that the Prince of the Korrinites was only footsteps away. I am surprised, after our fight, that I have not met the Arena since I annoy you so much."

"Do not think for a moment that the thought did not cross my mind when I found orange juice spilled all over my laptop last month. But I was still recovering from our last fight." Lotor tried his most disarming smile.

"Please, do not tell. At first, I hated it. But now, I understand why my father insisted on it. Horan, if everyone finds out I have to go back home and I am not ready for that. I need this." Lotor walked over to the computer and played the file again.

"Must be hard being Zarkon's son." Horan said.

"Some days are worse than others. This was a bad day. He killed my only friend. Even then, I did not have a lot of them. She used to send me out on quests for her. She would wait in her tree house why I would find her all sorts of things. Then one day, Zarkon decided she was of no use to him and deleted her." Horan shook his head. That holo was available from every news station. He had seen the whole thing with Lotor and wondered why someone would spend so much time and effort encrypting it. Korronites, Horan thought as he pulled on his boots, are incomprehensible.

Lotor lay there all morning just staring at the ceiling. He heard the comm ring and answered it only to find a nervous Borak on the other line. Zarkon had moved Fia into the palace. For the moment she seemed fine. Lotor nodded and sighed. The game had lasted almost exactly three months. Not even worth the purchase of the harem girls. He laughed to himself when he thought about his and Horan's stupid fight. He was glad the file was deleted. The last mission was supposed to be the hardest one and he had no luck in saving princesses.

_I just want to thank anyone who is reading these and especially for people like Lotornomiko, Misty Gargoyle, the Winter sisters, Truth, Wade Wells, and of course, Prince Lotor himself for reading my fanfics. I even hear my husband is secretly taking a peak these days...sheesh._


End file.
